The Dreamer's Report
by Doctor Burrito
Summary: Side-Story in the Reporter's Saga, the tale of Aerith Gainsborough and Theodor Harvey, and their struggles during the collapse of Heaven and Hell. Also an account of "Kidd" and her importance to the Endless Cycles.
1. Chapter 1 Flowers and Flames

_**GAIA'S NAVEL, WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL**_

Consider the moth. An unassuming creature, moths begin their lives just as butterflies do. They start out as larva, then encompass themselves in cocoons and undergo a transformation which leads them to emerge as the moth we all know. Butterflies are beloved for their beauty, and renowned as a metaphor for how small and simple beginnings can end in breath taking allure. But what of the moth, who undergoes a similar transformation, but remains as bland as it was before?

We have only one saying with regards to moths. "Like a moth to a flame." We use it with regards to those beings which are inevitably drawn toward something, in a way that is inescapable. And what of the moth? Why is it drawn to the flame and not the flower, like its cousin? The flower is as captivating as the flame, is it not? Yet the moth chooses to fly into what it must know is its destruction, rather than choose that which is wholesome and life giving.

Beauty is the flame to which men all flock. For a beautiful woman, a man will sacrifice and compromise everything about himself. Every man is drawn to it, to beautiful women. They captivate him, ensnare him, and like the flame, will destroy him if he is not careful. But man, like the moth, is perhaps incapable of resisting his fate.

Women, then, must choose what they will do with the fates of men. Will a woman be a flame, and call the moths down to satisfy her passions, or will a woman be a flower, and wait patiently for the coming of her butterfly? If men are powerless to resist women, then it falls to a woman to make certain that a man finds peace, respite, and safety in her bosom, and not a flame which will consume him until there is nothing left.

Seated on the dais of stonework in the middle of the garden called Gaia's Navel in the World we made from our dreams, I pondered the events which had lead me to it. Theodor had returned to the side of Chaos, and at last our plan had been set in motion. A plan neither he nor I fully understood at that point.

Our belief was this: that Heaven and Hell were wrong. What "wrong" entailed, we were not certain, only that something was fundamentally off about it all. It began when we met, I suppose, the feeling that everything was somewhat askew. We talked that whole day, and then the next. His descriptions of the wars he'd fought for Chaos sounded not unlike the dreams a friend of mine had had. Yet these things were completely opposite the records given by all of Heaven and Hells' governments. Yet he remembered these things, and they were vivid, like the dreams of my friend.

Then, as we conversed, he mentioned something. He mentioned a dream of his own. A dream he had had, that he could not quite shake off. A simple enough dream, but one that would become the singular motivation for our every action.

"I dreamt of a flower," he said, "a rose, that seemed to glow as I held it. When the petals fell away, I followed them until I came upon a field that was all full of flowers. At last I observed that it was not simply a field, but in fact an entire world of flowers. I had never been so happy as I was in that moment."

When I shared this dream with my friend, he smiled at me and said, "I know this dream, I've had it, too."

From there Theodor and I began to investigate. We found that many who had fought in the Dissidiae between Chaos and Cosmos had had this same dream. We infiltrated the bowels of Hell and found that even there, several were who had dreamt of this world full of flowers.

And that became our obsession. Our very goal. Our purpose. The end to which I and Golbez have striven all this time is exactly that: The world full of flowers. This is our dream, our philosophy, and our hope. All our work has been to this end.

It's an apt comparison, I think. Flowers and flames. Now I am aware that there are those who, with their plans, would engulf us in their flames. They would have us believe we are drawn to this end no matter what; that all things must end in destruction. But is that the case? Is Kefka's famous speech truth, or lies? I reject it. Death is not the end of all things. Life is the end of all things. Life carries on, even after death, in one way or another. The butterfly will still flock to the flower as the moths carelessly throw themselves into the flames. We aimed to fill the world with so many flowers they choked out the flames.

Golbez donned his armor and joined the Doctor for the sake of Chaos as a part of this plan. We knew a war was imminent, and had prepared ourselves for gathering more data. Golbez would be searching for the source of this dream we had while I would be seeking for a means by which we could force everyone to lay down their swords and simply let the flowers grow.

As I sat on the dais in the middle of the garden, a purple cat approached me. He sat down, swished his tail at me, and then spoke.

"Hello," the cat said, in a voice deeper than I'd imagine a cat to have.

"Hello," I said in reply. It was a bit odd, hearing a cat speak, but I reminded myself that Heaven was hardly as normal as I'd expect. "Are you lost?"

"In a sense," the cat said, scratching behind his ear. "My name is Alfador. I am an observer, and I've come to help you cheat at this game."

"What game? And why should I like to cheat?"

"The name of the game is reality," he purred. "And you'd like to cheat to ensure the best possible outcome for all."

"And what can you do to help me with so big a task, Alfador?"

"I can tell you what is wrong with Heaven, expand your view of the situation, and guide you on the path."

"You have my interest."

"Heaven is false. That is, it's a dream of sorts."

"A dream?"

"You're actually unconscious right now. Your real body is in another world, kept safe while the real world repairs itself. In the mean time, your soul is here."

"What happened to the real world?"

"Someone broke it in an attempt to get her way. She wants to have her family back, and she is the one who moved you all to the other world. She has kept you here, sleeping, so she could build Heaven and Hell into a neat enough order for her to prepare her family to emerge from this place. Unfortunately, there have been complications, and she hasn't had success. That's why I'm cheating. The game has stalled, and I want to move it onward."

"You'll forgive me if I have a hard time believing this," I said.

"Absolutely," Alfador answered. "The truth is a hard thing to swallow. But swallow you must. No one other than you and Golbez is able to help me move the game along."

"What am I to do about any of this?"

"For now? Only the following: There is a monster coming into this world. This monster hails from another world entirely. A world unrelated to your own. But someone is crying in this world, and someone is crying in another world, and you need to be there to hear them cry. When you have done that, I will instruct you further."

"Alright, Mr. Alfador," I responded, smiling, "I'll play the game, providing one condition."

"And that would be?"

"I want you to let Golbez in on the game, too."

Alfador smiled at me, and with what appeared to be a feline bow, replied, "As you wish. I must say, I think we have all underestimated you, flower girl. I'd have thought you'd have chosen one of the men in your life. Why choose Golbez over the man you love?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked winking at him. "Everyone underestimates him, too."


	2. Chapter 2 Black and White

_**DREAM'S END, HELL, WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO DAY OF CID**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK**_

The worlds are full of colors. Shades and hues of various and vibrant varieties. There are perhaps, more colors out there than there are worlds. These colors compose the world we see. Your hand has a color, and the ring on your finger another. Your hair is one color, and your eyes another. Everything we see has a color to it, of some sort or another. It is by these shades we understand the world around us.

But what if the colors are a lie? What if it is nothing more than your mind which makes you believe there are colors, and in reality the world is nothing more than shades of black and white? Indeed, we believed for a long time that that was the case. There is Heaven, and there is Hell. There is White, and there is Black. And so our simple, ignorant minds created a world devoid of color, devoid of the vibrant truth of how life truly is.

Consider: we assume that hair must be black, white, grey, brown, red or blonde. Someone with pink hair is instantly considered to have dyed it. We create sciences which explain how a pink-haired woman is absolutely impossible, let alone realistic. Yet the hopes of many, if not all, hang on a woman who was born with pink hair.

When you hear of a rose, you assume it is red. But a rose can just as easily be yellow, white, pink, and even black. In this wise do we use colors themselves to construct a world of Black and White around ourselves. We say in our hearts "it cannot be so," and raise up knowledge that proves our points. We study things out, and in the end, our beliefs are confirmed to be as valid as before we began.

But what of little children? Do you yet remember little children? When they are born, they do not yet have these concepts and notions ingrained in themselves. Though a man has all the learning in the world telling him there is no such thing as magic, a little child will believe in it with all his heart. Though a man might say, "there are only twenty six letters in this alphabet!" the child, not knowing even so much as one, will be free to create his own.

We restrict ourselves, and create a world of Blacks and Whites and seek to choose the one side or the other. All my life, and for much of my death, I have assumed myself to be a man of the Black, and projected all of the White onto my brother. This is not who I am now, though. I am not a prisoner of Black and White anymore. The world is not monochrome, but radiant and resplendent.

All of this change came about when I met her. The flower girl. She spent her days in tending the gardens, and in them found the colors we had lost in our wars. She reminded me of my dream, of the flower I had beheld in my visions of the night. And from that dream we built a new one: a world full of flowers, one where war would never again trample them down.

So we set out to make this world. She, to look for the means, and I to look for the source. When the Liar came to call me to the service of Chaos, I was prepared. Our mission to create the world full of flowers began that day. Our minds were yet small, though, and we believed Heaven would be the host for that new world.

Until the cat came along and changed our minds, expanded our visions, and endowed us with the hope of besting Gods at the game they were playing.

I was walking the Liar, and with Vincent Valentine, when the cat appeared to me. The others were occupied with visions of nightmares as we spoke. That was the nature of the place- Dream's End- to torment others with their nightmares. Our mission there was to retrieve Jecht and bring him to Chaos as well. That . . . changed following this moment.

"Do not be alarmed," the cat said by way of greeting.

"I am never alarmed," I responded.

"You will be. You will be."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Consider it, instead, a friendly warning. I am not come to threaten, but to help."

"What manner of demon is this, that offers to help the man who has aligned himself with Chaos?"

"Your friends cannot hear you," the cat said, cocking his head at them. "I am no demon. My name is Alfador. I am an observer. I have been waiting to see how the game will play out, but it appears to have stalled. I am come to help you put it back in motion."

"Me? You jest. I am not the man for the task."

"Indeed you are not," Alfador stated, "You are the man who will begin, though. But to answer the underlying question of 'why did you choose me?' I can only say I did not. Your friend, the flower girl, chose you."

"Ah. Is there any worth in occulting from you what we know?"

"None, to tell you the truth. I am aware of your plans, and I wish only to . . . _expand_ them."

"How so?"

"You are in agreement with me that Chaos must be stopped?"

"I have no love for Chaos."

"Aid me, then, and Chaos will surely fail at His task. You are wise enough that you chose not to covenant with Him. Chaos wants to use His covenant to build an iron system by which He will survive His destruction and be reborn through you and all who partake of His covenant. It will add your strength to His. You must engineer the downfall of this covenant."

"I am told that breaking this covenant will have dire consequences."

"Only for those who make a foolish covenant with Chaos. What if someone's covenant were to be made in such a way that breaking it were to have no consequence? And that breaking it were to be easy?"

"The Liar will never accept such terms. He is shrewd enough to know better than that."

"The Liar is a very sad man, who will have a very sad fate. An opportunity will soon arise for you to forge such a covenant with Jecht. The Liar will be incapacitated, and, if I am not mistaken, one of Chaos' own avatars is here with you."

I considered his statements, then said, "What you say makes sense . . . but what covenant can I forge that will be the weak and breakable link in Chaos' armor?"

"Isn't that obvious? Make his covenant something impossible for him to keep, so that when that moment arises, Chaos' covenants begin to collapse in on themselves."

"Ah," I said, "I know exactly what to do, in that case."

"I knew you could solve it yourself. Now listen well, Man in Black; you likely suspect it already, but the world you know is a lie. Heaven and Hell are illusions, created to pacify you while someone else manipulates everything. Your objective is a simple one: You must find the only man, in Heaven or Hell, who can be trusted to choose a harsh, cruel reality full of unanswerable questions over a peaceful, orderly, and safe dream wherein all his needs are cared for. You must find this man, who is able to value truth above all else. When you have done that, I will instruct you further."

"As you command."

"Not command; suggest. This is for all our good, not just mine. But the point is understood. Until then!" He evaporated following this remark.

When I came to, Jecht, Vincent, and I were standing over the body of the Liar, who had collapsed. I took a moment to process the shift in position, and was thankful that my helmet masked my surprised expression.

"What do we do now?" Jecht asked.

"That's obvious," I said.

"Oh, is it?" Valentine replied.

"We came here to enlist Jecht in our cause, and form a covenant."

"True. Why should I want to do that, though?" Jecht asked.

"To save your son, of course."

"He doesn't seem to be in any danger, as I take it."

"He will be soon."

"What do you propose, then?"Valentine asked.

"I propose we beat the Gods at their own game."

"How so?"

"Chaos needs this covenant. We will set it up as the pitfall for the God of Discord. Unless, of course, the both of you would like to spend eternity waiting for Him to pull you up and use you as He desires?"

"No fuckin' way," Jecht spat.

"Not really," Valentine agreed.

"Then let's do this: Jecht, grab the Liar's hand." Jecht grabbed it without question, and I turned to Valentine. "Initiate the covenant." He nodded and, closing his eyes, willed the flames to snake from the Liar's wrist toward Jecht's.

"Now tell me, Jecht, what would you do for rage? Would you become Chaos Himself?"

"What? I- oh! Yeah, I would do that."

"And you know that, if you fail to become Him, you will break this covenant with the Lord thy God, correct?"

"Right."

"And that, the punishment for breaking a covenant with the Lord Chaos is the severing of _**all**_ties with Him?"

"All ties?"

"Every tie Chaos has."

"I understand."

"Make, then, a covenant with the Lord thy God, and become Him! Failing that, sever all ties and live in freedom, fearing Chaos no more!"

There was a flash of light as the covenant was made. The flash woke the Liar, and he, realizing with terror what we had just done, hurried to speak. I wasn't quite happy with that, having hoped he would have no recollection at all.

From there it was a matter of persuading him to hold his tongue before Chaos. It would not do to have him rat us out so soon. His silence was difficult to obtain, but ultimately it was assured.

"Sleepin' Beauty finally woke up, eh?" Jecht taunted, pulling him to his feet, grasping the hand he'd only just released.

"That is . . . unfortunate," I stated, not at all satisfied with his now being aware of the fact that a covenant had been forged under his nose.

"You! What, what happened?"

"We have provided you with protection from the wrath of Chaos when we arrive at His castle," Valentine answered, which was perfectly true. Chaos would be livid when He found out about Jecht's inclusion in all this, but if Valentine had authorized it, His rage would shift from the Liar to Vincent. As an avatar of Chaos, the blow was likely to sting him less.

"I do not believe-," The Liar began.

"Then mark well," I interrupted. "You have just forged a covenant with a man that Lord Chaos Himself has not sent you to get. Two, to be honest. Jecht and Barthandelus. I wonder who it is that sent you then, to call for them? The Emperor, no doubt."

"H-,"

"Do not seek to excuse yourself. Would you know how I know? And how I know how you know? When we arrive at Chaos' castle, you will be dispatched to retrieve more slaves, and, afterward, you will meet with me on the Tower of Sorrow. There it will be explained."

"You're a small'n, Liar. You and all yer ilk're lookin' ta spin the world this way and that, well guess what?" Jecht snarled, leaning in close to the Liar and exposing more than I wanted, "We gotta plan of our own."

"What is to stop me from telling Chaos all of this the minute we reach His door?" The Liar threatened.

"What is to stop you from telling Him anything? What is to stop _us_ from telling Him all _you_ have done?" I asked, not willing to be threatened.

"What are your terms, then?"

"You keep silent on all of this, and so will we."

"And watch as you all plot to tear down what I am building?"  
>"Our plan is yours, you can be assured." I lied. In truth, I do not fully comprehend the misguided views of the Liar and his former companions. I am not concerned with them. The world full of flowers is my goal, and so long as it is, no other plans can hope to conflict with it.<p>

"I am not."

"And you never will be. Now, have we got an accord?"

"Have I any choice?"

"No more than any of us ever have. This is the game we all play. You have lost this turn. Are you ready to go again?"

"As you will," He groaned, before moving onward.

So began the work which I and my associate began to save the souls of all, and bring about the world full of flowers. Our quest to save the souls of all those who had fallen into the clutches of a phantom we only barely understood, guided by a being about whom we knew equally little. We are near to the end, now, and there is little left that we can do ourselves, but that does not mean we can rest. Even now, as we are in World B, she and I labor for the sake of others. We know we are not the only ones Alfador has enlisted, and we know that, just as we manipulate others to reach our end, so, too, does he manipulate us. We do not fret over this, though, as we are willing pawns in his paws, just as those who aid us are _usually_ willing as well.

The world full of flowers _will_ come. It isn't a matter of "is it right for us to do this?" it is a matter of "if we do not do this for a good cause, can we be sure that others won't for a lesser one?"


	3. Chapter 3 Right and Wrong

_**STRIFE RESIDENCE, COMFORTABLE, HEAVEN, WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

"Do you think Tifa would be upset if she knew?" I asked, snuggling a little closer.

"Do you think she's asking Zack the same thing right now?" he asked, resting his arms behind his head on the pillow.

The two of us were laying in his bed, in his house, in a town called Comfortable, which is best described as the opiate of those who could have unraveled the entirety of the dream. Looking back on it now, I realize the inhabitants of Comfortable were largely those who had fought in the Dissidiae of Chaos and Cosmos, and had, locked inside themselves, the truth of World D. I also realize how selfish I was, lying there with him this day.

He wasn't mine to have. It didn't matter and doesn't matter how good the sex was. It doesn't matter if some part of me will always love him. He and I aren't meant to be. We never were. I have someone else, and so does he. He is the only man who can make of me a flame, and not a flower. And that terrifies me. One day, my inability to control myself will consume him, and destroy everything.

This was one of the last times I saw him. If I will see him in the world full of flowers, I do not know. I fear such an encounter, because I don't know if I can resist him. I'd only come to say good-bye before embarking on the quest Alfador had assigned me (and following the instructions he had given me at the conclusion of our exchange.) but, finding him alone in the house, I had been unable to control myself.

We'd been drinking lemonade, and I'd spilled some on my dress. I don't remember if that was an accident or not anymore. I asked if there was anything I could change into. He'd taken me up to his room to lend me some of her clothing, and from there . . . I could argue he started it. He began to undress me, but he's a moth, and I chose to be a flame in that moment. I should have said no, but I _wanted_ it, perhaps even more than he did.

The worst part is, I don't feel ashamed anymore. Why should I be ashamed? If something feels _good_, how can it be _wrong?_ It isn't fair! I died, but if I hadn't, we could have had something more, couldn't we? He wanted that, and I wanted that. What could possibly wrong about two consenting adults doing what they both want so desperately?

But then . . . I know it is wrong. He isn't mine, no matter how much I want it. I am not his, no matter how much he wants it. No matter how good it feels when he's inside me, we're not supposed to be together. It isn't fair that we should hurt others simply to satisfy what we want. This is the action of a flame, and not a flower. No matter how beautiful, no matter how good it feels, someone is going to get burned if we don't put this fire out.

And it _does_ feel good. Resting my head on his chest feels right, safe, and like it was meant to be. We saved a world, why should death keep us apart forever? I would sooner burn alone in Hell than spend an eternity in Heaven with him just out of reach. What manner of cruel Gods have forbidden us from keeping together? Then I would have blamed the Gods of Heaven, but now that I know that world was a dream, I wonder if those Gods are the ones who would condemn us.

And it hurts all the more to know that all my labors will cost us again. I could have stayed there with him forever. I would have loved nothing more than that, but I have chosen to die again, and leave him for her instead. It hurts, more than I can say. But this story is how I was able to make that decision. This story is about the many women who have had to make that choice, and how one will yet have to decide if that is the choice she will make or not.

It is the worst choice of all. The hardest by far. I wish I could simply make it and feel nothing, but this cuts me to the quick, and will leave me yet in deeper, and more bitter sorrow still.

"I should go," I whispered to him.

"Don't," he said. "This is good. I just want to stay like this as long as I can."

"Me too," I said, "but there are things I've got to be doing."

"Me too," he answered, "but I can't think of a one I'd want to be doing more than this right now. Well," he laughed, "maybe just one."

"What's that?" I asked, almost certain I knew the answer.

"You, of course," he said, suddenly shifting with enough speed and force to pin me beneath him. I squealed with delight, then, breathing heavily, looked him in the eyes before we kissed.

Afterward, I was dressing myself when I realized I hadn't yet broken it to him that I was going away. He was just lying there in the bed, looking at me with a stupid smile on his face as I slipped on my clothing. The light of the afternoon sun slid past the shutters and onto the bed's blue blanket.

"Do you have to go?" He asked. "Tifa won't be back for hours, still."

"I'm a busy girl," I said, "there's a lot left for me to do today. I want to stay, but I just can't."

"Oh, I know you're a busy girl," he laughed, "you just showed me that. What is it that's so urgent that you have to go running off to take care of it now?"

"Oh, you know," I replied, deciding suddenly to lie to him, "I've got flowers to tend. You know I can't leave my garden alone for long."

"Not even for me?"

It broke my heart to say it, but, managing a smile, I said, "Even you, dummy."

I left his house not long after that. I think that was the last time I ever saw him. The house is gone, now, as is Comfortable, and the entirety of that world. All these things happened in a dream a long time ago. But it was _real to me_, and who can say what will be real tomorrow? I remember dying, but am I dead back in the world above? I dare not harbor any hopes that things will be different for myself. I have no interest in deluding myself as others have done. The world full of flowers isn't for me, and it isn't about me. Maybe I'll never see it, but if I can give it to him, and to his woman, then that will be enough for me.

There's a word for me, you know. A word that I wouldn't come to appreciate or understand until the end of my adventure. A term for the women who the Gods tear from those they love, for the women who must ultimately sacrifice themselves for the well being of their world. A word for we tragic flowers who are mocked by the flames.

The word is both an insult and a badge of honor. Where did it begin? Do the Gods acknowledge it, and does that matter? So few have ever heard this term, but it is there, lingering in the shadows of the conversations of the Gods. Cid has become the name of the great thinkers of all worlds. Who first called them Cids? Does that originate with Cid Lufaine, or not? Mid is the word for the Sons of Cid.

But the word they use for the women who love these sons of Cid, even when God forbids it? The word with which they mock my suffering, and the suffering of all women like myself? The word they scorn us with, for defying God and Fate and all else for the sake of the men we love?

That word is "Kid." Whether it is because they think we are childish in our pursuit of a doomed love, or for a reason that escapes my knowledge, I cannot say. Kid, they call us, and Kid we become. This record is made for all Kids, everywhere. It is a record of what I, a Kid, decided to do with my calling. It is the record of another Kid, and what she decided to do with her fate. If we have chosen wrongly, then this is a warning. If this is a wise choice, then it is a guide.

Whatever the case, this record is made to show you that there is hope. Let that be the only Endless Cycle you need: hope. The world full of flowers is calling to you, and beckoning you to accept the hope it offers. The choice is ultimately your own.


	4. Chapter 4 Man and Woman

_**CASTLE CHAOS, HELL, WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK**_

I recall that Castle Chaos was nothing, if not a dangerous place to be. At every turn I was forced to guess who was and was not a prospective ally. At every turn everyone else did the same thing. The more of us that the Liar brought back, the more I began to notice that we were spending all our free time sizing one another up. The most worrisome were undoubtedly Sephiroth and Kefka, who seemed always to be on the verge of discovering what Jecht, Vincent and I were about.

Vincent himself was of no real use. Rather, it would be a great peril to attempt to involve him. Since his arrival in Castle Chaos, his time had been monopolized by Chaos. Jecht had left to escort the Liar on his quest to bring back the remaining warriors our God desired. I was alone, and in need of further allies.

But who? Sephiroth lusted only for vengeance, and so fell entirely into Chaos' hands. Kefka was mad beyond hope. Mateus and Ultimecia almost flaunted their desire to subvert Chaos at every turn, but they were easily cowed by Him, and were just as likely to attempt to subvert anyone else. Ex-Death seemed to only care about the Void, and was constantly rambling on about it.

But there were those who seemed, however unlikely, to have some small sliver of worth in causing the world full of flowers, too. The first of these was Kuja. I could tell from his uneasy laughter that, at times, he was not as in line with the plans of our God as the others. A demon known as Ahriman informed me that, like myself, Kuja had family in Heaven.

The other, stranger still, was the Cloud of Darkness. She never seemed so boastful as Ex-Death, despite always being at his side. To be honest, I never would have considered her, were it not for a chance encounter while walking in the garden of hands.

For the uninitiated, the Garden of Hands was a garden in Castle Chaos were the greedy were buried, all save for their hands. Traditionally, Chaos' demons would put sharp objects into their hands, so that the greedy would prick themselves on their own greed. This extended to the hands which, by some hellish force, had been grafted into bushes and trees. It was an unpleasant place, but compared to the rest of the Castle, relatively relaxing.

Seated in this garden, I was pondering on Alfador's words when she came along. It was rare to see her walk. Normally she slithered through the air, like a feather boa about the shoulders of Ex-Death. Today, though, she came on her own two feet and seated herself across from me.

The word she is a word I here use purposefully and willfully. It has long been argued that the Cloud of Darkness is not a she or a he. People have taken that to mean that the Cloud is an it- genderless and sexless. Others have taken it to mean that the Cloud is a they- given her speech patterns. I refuse to accept these claims. The Cloud of Darkness is a woman in every sense of the word.

The reason for this is twofold. First and foremost, she sat right across from me. Her penchant for undress was as infamous as my taste in armor, and it was visually evident from where I sat that she was a woman. Nothing about her ultimately naked body refuted that claim. To any observer it was the functional body of a female adult hume. The second reason is perhaps a little less believable to you, the receiver of this report.

The Cloud of Darkness is not an unfeeling, uncaring monster. Perhaps she once was. Perhaps this Famfrit was once a sexless horror from the Void, come to devour all worlds. Perhaps, as the Scholar and many others were lead to believe, she was a fallen Goddess. She is not that now, though. The name Famfrit is Ivalician in origin, but it is the weak link in the chains of her armor. It is a name given, and when she took it, the very term "Cloud of Darkness" became itself a name. And a name brings an identity. And with the identity, be that Cloud of Darkness or Famfrit or whatever her name was when the Gods were born, there came wants.

Today she came to discuss these wants with me. Her desires had begun as a simple curiosity, but that singular seed had taken root, and within her, much as she would have hated to admit it, had begun to grow a soul. A decidedly female soul, I contend.

"It is good that we found you here," she said.

"I am always in the Castle," I said, "It cannot be that hard to find me."

"That . . . is not what we meant. It is good we found you here _alone_."

At the time I remember feeling a chilling sensation. All manner of thoughts raced through my head. Though I am a better mage than most, I would never hope to defeat someone of the Cloud's level in open combat. My strength has always been in stratagem, not open confrontation.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"We need to speak with you."

"With me? I have no interest in converting to the Void. In case you haven't noticed, I'm quite happy with my present religion."

At that she laughed. That was when I noticed something was different. It wasn't her usual, icy, mocking laugh. It was . . . sincere. As if she had actually understood and found humorous my joke.

"We are not here to speak with you about the Void. We are here to speak with you about a dream."

"A dream?" I asked, somewhat taken aback, "I was not aware you dreamt."

"Nor were we. We do not even remember sleeping before this. But we had a dream."

"That sounds interesting, but why bring this to me? Surely Ex-Death would be the first for you to tell about this dream."

At the mention of his name, she lowered her eyes. Indeed, almost as if she were an innocent school girl, she turned her head away and stroked her upper arm with discomfort. If I weren't terrified of her, the sight of a naked, grown woman doing that would have been enticing. It was, in this instance, only more unusual. I could not shake the feeling that this was some manner of prank, that the others were using this as a means of pulling me off guard. Except . . . I couldn't believe that the Cloud of Darkness would play pranks.

"There's a reason you won't tell him, then. But why me?"

"You . . . were in this dream."

"Charming."

Her eyes widened with understanding, and she rushed to say, "No! We did not mean that! We meant we saw you in the dream's beginning, and, as we have never dreamed before, we have sought you in an attempt to put the information together."

"Dreams aren't information, though. They're just fantasies our minds conjure up as we sleep."

"But we do not sleep! We did not fantasize before this!"

"_Before this?"_ I asked, seizing on her words.

She flinched as if I had slapped her. She refused to look at me, perhaps hoping to avoid a gaze obscured by my helmet. It took her a minute to answer, and when she did, her voice was uncertain, "We . . . cannot stop thinking about him. About the man in our dream. In our dream, you gave this man a flower, and the flower brought him to us. And now . . . he is all we can think about. It is . . . _wrong._"

At first I did not believe her. It was too hard to process. The Cloud of Darkness had dreamed of the flower, and that phrase rang in my head. All I could hear was _the flower_ repeating again and again. How could someone like her be connected to everything, though? It was such a shocking revelation that I very nearly missed the fact that the most unfeeling being in Castle Chaos had just admitted to having a crush on a man she had dreamt up.

Only it was no dream. Not if she had had it. I had had it. Cloud Strife had had it. Who else had had this dream? There was something much bigger here. Something Alfador had not mentioned. The notion that our world was a lie was suddenly much easier to believe.

"Why . . . is it wrong?" I asked her.

"Because we are already . . . committed. To the Void, and to Ex-Death."

"You're worried about cheating on Ex-Death?"

"Chea-ting? We do not recognize this term."

"When a man or woman falls in love with someone other than their spouse. They call that cheating."

"Ex-Death is not our spouse."

"But you feel committed to him."

"We are united with him in our commitment—to bring about the Void."

"And you feel that your thoughts of this other man are a violation of this commitment?"

"We . . . are not sure. This man is only something from a dream. Why did you give him the flower? If you had never given it to him, we would never have met him, and our minds would be clear, and our purpose singular."

"Would you prefer that I not give him the flower?"

"I-we would be easier of mind."

"But would you prefer it?" I repeated, not missing out on the subtle conflict arising inside her. That choice, however accidental, to say "I" and not "We" is how I prove to you that she is a woman. Would an unfeeling, uncaring, sexless being develop what can best be described as "puppy love" for a man? I do not think so. In that moment the Cloud of Darkness left behind her history, as a shapeless embodiment of the Void or as a fallen Goddess, and became nothing more than a naked woman, sitting on a bench, trying desperately to understand something that no man has ever been able to fully comprehend: her feelings.

In that one moment the Cloud of Darkness woke up from a world of Black and White and into a world of colorful emotions so garish and clashing and contradictory and incomprehensible that it took her breath away. And that is where I made my move.

"Would you like to meet him again?" I inquired, leaning forward.

She looked at me suddenly, her eyes wide open in wonder and awe, as if she, who was so many times more powerful than I, was marveling at the idea that I could do such a thing. In truth I was not entirely certain that I could, but I was determined to make the promise if I could hope it would further our goal. She nodded in assent as she bit her lower lip.

"How much would you like to meet him again?"

"We . . . we . . ."

"For a chance to see the man again, what would you do?"

"We would . . ."

And then I knew how to do it. I knew how to unravel Chaos' entire plan in one, swift stroke. The covenant with Jecht was a good start, but this was something far better. This was truly a stroke of genius. I say it with pride, and perhaps that will make me seem arrogant, but in this one moment I looked into the face of a woman who had consumed worlds and made the Gods tremble with fear and thrust out my hand as an offer.

"What," I asked, opening my palm toward her, "would you do for love?"


	5. Chapter 5 Knights and Pirates

_**GARDEN OF RADIANCE, HEAVEN, WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID  
>THE FLOWER GIRL<strong>_

Alfador said that I needed to hear the cries of several important persons. His instruction was simple enough: Be in the Sacred Nebula on a specified day, in the Radiant Gardens south of the Holy Temple of the Highest. And so, obedient to his command, I found myself pacing quietly in the garden for most of that morning.

The Garden of Radiance is a place where light is grown in the Sacred Nebula. The plants have glowing fruits which are delicious to the taste and desirable to make a person happy. Because of the intense shine of the Garden during the harvest, though, it rarely is occupied.

This particular day, though, I was not alone in the Garden. As I walked the blinding paths, I saw someone moving through the bushes. It took a moment to make out so much as a silhouette, and even longer for a discernable face to appear.

My eyes adjusted and revealed the figures of several persons. There was an older gentleman in armor and a robe, a young man in blue, a short Taru woman and a woman in a black longcoat. As they approached I called out to them.

"Who goes there?"

"Servants of the Most High God!" comes the reply. "Loyal warriors on a mission from the choir of the Elohim!" After a pause, "Who goes there?"

"A flower girl, sent to write the tale of them who serve the Gods."

And then comes the question for which Alfador has prepared me, "Who are the dreamers, and who watches them as they dream?"

"The Mighty dream, and the Mother watches their slumber, looking for what she will not find."

"You are indeed the scribe," the man says, "let us leave this place, and look upon each others' faces!"

We left the Garden through its eastern exit, and when we did, I got a better look at those I would be using. The man had a tightly trimmed beard that reminded me of pepper, with flecks of white in the black. His cloak was long and brown, over an armor that was a dark enough shade it seemed to be almost purple. The young man had untamed brown hair, and seemed to be fairly shy. He only blushed when I spoke to him. The Taru woman, on the other hand, was very talkative. She seemed to have a fetish for rhyming, though. The woman in the black coat, upon further inspection, was rather beautiful, in an unkempt sort of way.

The man introduced himself as Cidolfas Orlandeau, and, gesturing to them in turns, explained who was who. "This is Benjamin. He's just earned his wings, and is handy with all manner of tools. Beside him is our good friend, Doctor Shantoto, and beside her we have Princess Sarisa Tycoon, perhaps better known as Captain Faris. You would be?"

"Aerith." I said, seeing no reason to lie, "Aerith Gainsborough. I'm only a flower girl, sent to record the events of your mission. Which is . . . ?"

"The Gods claim a thief has stolen important information which the Lady Cosmos will need in Her coming battle with Chaos."

"Oh? Where exactly are we heading?"

"To a place called The Mouth. It is an unholy and defiled ground in Heaven, which opens to a realm of madness."

"That's where this thief has gone? To the Mouth?"

"Yes. Her name is Remedi. No one is quite certain yet how she obtained these dockets, or why she fled with them, or what her aim is, but, it is vital we retrieve these dockets and bring them to the Palace of Order. Once there, we will deliver them to The Scholar, who is raising an army to defend Heaven against Chaos' coming war."

"How heroic! I am so happy to be accompanying you on this journey, then! Surely stopping this Remedi will be a mighty feat!"

"And what of you, madam flower girl?" he asked, "What is your part in all of this?"

"My part is as I have stated, of course. I am to come with you and make a record of this glorious quest."

"All right!" Shouted the boy in blue, "We're gonna be heroes!" When he saw that the others were staring at him, he blushed and kept his head down.

At last satisfied with my credentials, Orlandeau went ahead and walked at the front of our ranks, with Doctor Shantoto. The two were talking of strategies already, laboring under the impression that Remedi was both dangerous and desperate, or would be by the time we arrived. Behind them skulked Benjamin, and, bringing up the rear, was I and Captain Faris.

"I have met you before," she said as we walked.

"Have you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and worrying suddenly. "I can't say I remember meeting you."

"You were invited to Dorgan Klauser's birthday party a few years back, were you not?"

True enough, I had been invited to that event. Few are those who weren't invited to it. The birthday party whereat Dorgan had a falling out with the Lady Cosmos was a well attended event. Still, it had been over a decade since then . . .

"I was there, yes. You were, too?"

"I know Dorgan's son, Bartz. We fought Ex-Death together."

"Ah, you're _that_ Faris! I saw you dance with him that night. You looked stunning."

"_I_ looked stunning?" She asks with a smirk, "Not _we_ looked stunning?"

"Bartz Klauser is a handsome man," I answered, "But I remember better your dancing than his."

"Thank you. I remember how you looked that night as well. Your dress was . . . breathtaking."

"You flatter me!" I said, "A woman would think you wished to woo her, talking thus."

"And if I do?"

"Then woo away. I thought you and Bartz had chemistry, though?"

"Bartz isn't here. _You_ are."

"So I am. _Aside_ from the way I looked that night, what did you notice?"

"What everyone noticed, I suppose. Dorgan Klauser had a fight with Cosmos. Who in Heaven hasn't heard of that, now?"

"I've heard he fought with Her on the subject of his son's participation in Her wars."

"Almost. Dorgan fought with Her on the subject of something related to the wars. He kept going on about something called the Hero and the Light Warrior project. Cosmos wouldn't say anything about it to him, though, and that's when he mentioned that both he and his son had slaved for Her as a part of these projects, and from there the argument erupted entirely."

"The Hero? And Light Warrior Project? I haven't heard of this before."

"Neither had I. The one who explained it all to me was the Scholar. According to him, the Light Warrior Project is a black-ops project the Gods have running to develop a _Hero_. The Hero is meant to defeat something strong, but beyond that I can't say what. The next night was an embarrassment."

"What happened the next night?"

She avoided my gaze and, lowering her head, said, "If you must know, Bartz Klauser and I were engaged. This would be the . . . second time we attempted a relationship. I gave him a child, did you know that? Our descendant, Linaly, went on to be a hero. But he and I are two free spirits, and it is hard to tie us down. I have never quite coped with the fact that Bartz harbors feelings for my sister as well, and our relationships have never flowed smoothly for this reason.

"I was at his father's house the night afterward for that reason. I wanted to talk to him about it, but that night, Dorgan got very, very drunk at dinner. It was that night that he and the other Dawn Warriors—My father, Kelgar, Xezat, and Galuf—hatched their stupid plan. 'Final Heaven' they called it, laughing in their drinks. At the time, I don't think anyone took them seriously. Who'd believe they would go through with it? In attendance that night were Gilgamesh and his son, Bartz and I, the Dawn Warriors, and the Scholar. The Scholar is too smart a man to ever believe in such a foolish idea, Gilgamesh and his son too uninterested in big things like this. Bartz was embarrassed by his father's words, as I was of mine.

"But the drinks wore off, and eventually these men sobered up and decided to go through with it. What a mad plan! They devoted months to the idea, and in the end they went about their Final Heaven. They were going, the five of them, to force Cosmos and The Highest to turn the government of Heaven over to the angels, to allow angels to vote for who would rule them. Their ace was something in this Light Warrior Project, according to Dorgan. What, he wouldn't say, but it was some discovery he and his comrades intended to use to force Cosmos and The Highest to step down.

"We never heard from them again. Officially they've Ascended to Godhood, but none of us has ever seen nor heard from them since that day. What the Gods really did as punishment we can never know. It drove a wedge between Bartz and I, though, however inadvertently, and now I am here, on an errand for the Gods to help the Scholar."

"I'm sorry about your father," I said.

"Is there anyone in Heaven who isn't sorry about someone these days?" was all she said in reply.


	6. Chapter 6 Hopes and Dreams

_**CASTLE CHAOS, HELL, WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

Life in Castle Chaos had grown . . . complex following my covenant with the Cloud of Darkness. We rarely had a chance to speak with one another, and after the first few days of casting awkward glances at one another as we passed each other in the hall, it became apparent we would need to meet to discuss a better plan of action. It was evident she wanted to speak with me, and once or twice she began to walk as I was near. I needed for her to maintain the façade of an uncaring, unfeeling abomination if we were to keep ExDeath's suspicions from rising.

There was also the matter of Kuja. We needed to convert him to our side. I sensed in him a kindred spirit, in spite of his cruel attitude at most of our encounters. Jecht and Vincent were beyond my reach still, and allies were something I needed. As the flow of souls who had covenanted to serve Chaos continued to course inward, the talk of an attack on Cosmos' palace became more frequent, and more blatant. It would not be long before we struck out at her.

From there, Alfador had informed me, the next battle would begin. I needed for arrangements to be kept in order prior to that. Alfador had apprised my counter part's doings and, when I had told him of my own, had promised to inform her of mine as soon as he could. He was a curious being, this mysterious benefactor of ours. He had exposed Heaven and Hell as a fabrication, but had revealed little else to us. At times I could not help but feel there was much we could benefit from knowing that he was entirely content to keep from us.

I do not now, nor have I ever truly trusted Alfador. What his motives are in all of this are beyond me, and for that purpose alone I have endeavored to make certain that even he cannot pull the wool over my eyes. Which has proven a difficult task, for while Cid Lufaine and Shinryu were distracted, and Chaos not omniscient, Alfador's whole attentions were focused on us, and concealing anything from him was harder than it sounds.

To make short the explanation, I have created a fail-safe of sorts. One which will protect us in case Alfador decides to betray us. Just as I have made a link in Chaos' armor weaker so that I might break it at my whim, so, too, have I structured all my attempts to aid Alfador in such a way that, pulling the right thread, I can undo all I and my associates have done. As Jecht is the key to undoing Chaos, the Cloud of Darkness is the key to undoing Alfador.

They say that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and indeed, it is my belief that the majority of this report exists to illustrate that point. Should Alfador attempt to double cross us, I need only scorn the Cloud of Darkness, and deny her that which I have promised- the chance to see the man from her dreams. Ruining that, I ruin all the rest, and so do I defend us should our labors prove to be to the benefit of a being we come to fear.

For the time being, however, I will cooperate with this mysterious benefactor. The world full of flowers is our ultimate goal, and I do not intend to jeopardize that unless I need to. Thus far, Alfador has given me no reason to suspect he plans anything against us, and so I shall keep my trump card up my sleeve, to use or dispose of as the need arises.

I digress, however, and have strayed from the topic I meant to discuss here.

Shortly after the arrival of one Delita Hieral in the Castle, I managed to arrange for a meeting with the Cloud of Darkness. It was in a place called the Chamber of Meat—an apt name for a room made entirely of raw flesh—that we found the time to talk with each other.

When she entered the chamber, though, I almost did not recognize her. Her hair, usually upheld by the ethereal forces she commanded, was instead hanging about her neck as a normal woman's might. As she walked—not floated—toward me, it wavered between silver and blonde. Her snakes had been wrapped tightly about herself to form a garment that covered her nakedness, and the malice had gone out of her eyes. She looked like a woman, and not a world-eating horror.

Before I could speak, she raised a hand to silence me, saying, "Do not be alarmed. I do not dress so around the others in the castle. But I wanted your opinion of . . . of . . ."

"Of how you look?" I asked, amused.

"Yes. Why would we—I want your opinion? Of my—our appearance of all things?"

"Why indeed?" I mused, "Why do you think you would want my opinion? Or is it my opinion you are really seeking?"

"We—I am not sure. What do you think of it?"

"You look dangerous," I said. "That is my honest opinion of it."

She looked shocked, and recoiled slightly at my words. Not shocked, no, she looked _hurt._ Her lower lip curled minutely inward, and her lower eyelids rose up to resist tears. "This was not our intention," she said.

"I know," I said in a more soothing tone, "I know. What I meant is that it would be dangerous for you to be seen looking like that."

"But we—I was not seen looking like this!" She insisted.

"Then that is good."

"But what do you think of my—our appearance? Aside from the danger it poses? It would be dangerous for us to be found together no matter the circumstances."

"A fair point . . . ," I conceded, "Very well then. Let us appraise you, shall we?"

Here I make a confession to you, who obtain this report: I have very little in the way of experience with women. My life was devoted to destroying everything my father, uncle, and brother had ever worked for, and on Zemus' errand there was little time for womanizing. As a young man, it is true, I had feelings for Barbariccia and one of the Magus Sisters, but that is because they were the only women I knew, and these were but the inadequate, awkward feelings of a young man.

Since then I have had . . . few meaningful relationships. In a way, I am almost as inexperienced as the Cloud of Darkness when it comes to real emotions. So much of my life was wasted in bitterness, jealousy, hatred, and, ultimately, regret, that when it comes to love and compassion I have always been sorely lacking. These are emotions I have learned to express only as they relate to my brother, and in all other areas I have never been . . . apt.

I am . . . lonely. I understand, upon reflection, why Cosmos and Cid Lufaine and, indeed, our enemy, all went out of their way to do what they did for the ones they loved. This loneliness hurts and aches in a way so little else can emulate. How do they cope with it, I wonder? How does Cid survive, being equal only to the Divine Dragon, and He His enemy? How does Cosmos survive, knowing the man She loves will always be forbidden Her? How can I carry on, the shadow of Cecil? He has friends, and is happy. He has a family. I . . . will do all that I can to save them. But myself? I have nothing.

I have no wife. I have no sons. When I am dead, my world will remember the monster whom they united against, and not the man who fought the Gods to free them from a never ending nightmare. I have no legacy other than that. I have no motive to fight for the World Full of Flowers and yet . . .

And yet I will do this, even if I die a thousand times trying. Not for myself, but for all.

"Well?" the Cloud asked, anxious to hear my opinion.

"I . . . you look . . . decent," I lied, "but there is much room for improvement. Improvement I regret that I cannot help you achieve."

"How can we—I improve then?"

"There is a man, newly come to the castle, who perhaps might know a thing or two about how to help us in this endeavor and our other."

"What man is this, that can help us?"

"You remember Kuja, do you not?"

"We remember Kuja. We—I do not know why, though."

"That's part of what I mentioned. Something is tainting our memories here. Luckily for you, I have invited Kuja here today. He should be arriving any moment."

"What?" She shouted, looking about, "I—we are not prepared for this! Has he joined us? He cannot see us like this!"

"Then I suggest you—ahem—disrobe."

She gave me a dirty look then kicked off from the floor, to rest in the air. Her dress unraveled back into snakes, and her hair rose again. The snakes, for their part, hissed at her angrily.

"They do not like being subdued. We have been one, and now they do not enjoy being lesser."

"They will learn," I assured her. Her face did not seem to want to be assured. Her emotions were running wild, I saw, but there was little I could do for her. She would have to stop fighting womanhood, and learn to control it herself.

There came a knocking at the door, at which point I opened it with a gesture. The man who entered was as feminine as they come. He was dressed in a white cloth designed to accentuate hips no man should have, and wore a white jacket over a tight black shirt. About his loins he had little more than a black thong, and hidden beneath the white cloth was a tail covered in white fur. His hair was longer than even the Cloud's, and his face touched up with make-up as well.

He exclaimed in disgust upon entering the chamber, "What a drab décor!" With a flick of his wrist, the meat room convulsed until it became regular stone. "Not much better, but at least I won't get blood on my clothes," he remarked.

Kuja floated the rest of the way into the room and I slammed the door behind him, sealing it as I did. He looked surprised as he sized the Cloud and I up, then said, "Well, this _is_ an interesting meeting we're going to have, isn't it? What could a wizard and an eldritch abomination want with little old me?"

"To ask you a simple question, nothing more."

"Ask away, then, mister Lunarian. I'm not afraid of you, just because you're big, strong and spiky."

"The intention is not to intimidate you."

"Good, because I'm not intimidated."

"How kind of you to repeat that for us. I understand you met the G.A.R.L.A.N.D. system?"

"I am a product of the G.A.R.L.A.N.D. system."

"Would you say there's a connection between that system and the Garland for whom we now work?"

"I would not. Why? Is there?"

"Absolutely. There are many Cids, and all are connected to the High Cid. Why should there not be a connection between Garlands?"

"Coincidence?"

"Does not exist in this place. You know that as well as any."

"Do I?"

"You understand that Chaos and Cosmos were condemned to war for eternity for breaking into the Crystal World, do you not?"

"I do."

"Why weren't you, then?"

"Ah, and here is the meat of the matter. I don't remember anything about what happened in there. Zidane and his companions might be more informative, but from the time I neared the Crystal onward, it's all a blank."

"You saw it, then?"

"What?"

"The Crystal of Absolute Virtue."

"Vaguely. Like I said, I looked, and from there it was a blur."

"Try to remember for me, what happened in the last battle we fought for Chaos?"

"How does that . . . relate . . . huh."

"What?"

"I don't remember anything."

"At all?"

"No, well, I. _Oh that _is _queer._"

"What?"

"I only remember one thing: A flower. But why do I remember such a gaudy little thing?"

"What do you remember about the flower?" I asked, eagerly. My guess had been correct. It wasn't just I and my associate who had dreamt of this flower. It was all of us. We had all seen it in our sleep. But why? What did the flower _mean_?

"I remember—how odd—I remember Sephiroth stealing it, and showing it to me as if it were spoils. I remember looking at it and feeling . . ."

"Feeling what?" I asked, almost interrogating, anxious to know if he had felt something stirring up inside him the way I had, the way Cloud Strife had, the way the Cloud of Darkness had, the way my associate did when she heard of the world full of flowers. Had I been sitting, on the edge of my seat would I have been. I needed to know what he felt.

Kuja took a deep breath, looked from the Cloud of Darkness back to me, and almost whispering, said, _"Afraid."_


	7. Chapter 7 Guilt and Innocence

_**MIRRORED EDGE, "HEAVEN", WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

The Mirrored Edge is a place made of glass which reflects the inner workings of the soul. It is also a field of optical illusions, wherein any unwary traveler is bound to cut themselves more than once. Why the Gods made it boggled my mind. How it arose in our collective dreams is something far stranger. Did Cid Lufaine imagine it up, or was it conjured by our subconscious guilt? I doubt that even Cid knows at this point.

Our little party had come here after a day's journey. The distance was irrelevant, of course, but it still felt like something of an accomplishment. I wonder if that was typical of World D? That our actions had no relevance, and will have no relevance in the World to come, yet still felt, or gave the illusion of feeling, that we had accomplished something. I must put such a thought from my mind. This is the fate of a Kidd, to sacrifice herself, and everything she has, for the man she loves.

Love is something special, I want to say. Indeed, over the course of these reports, which have come to you, you will hear much of love. Do not confuse love with arousal. Love can arouse, but it is not the same as simply being turned on. Do not confuse love with pleasure. Love can feel good, but not all that feels good is, and simply because things feel good does not mean that they are love. Do not confuse it with infatuation. You might be entirely enchanted by someone, but that is not the same thing as love.

Love is deeper than those things. It runs deeper. It entrenches itself as easily as hatred. It becomes you, and when it has fully assimilated itself, it guides you, like a perfect light, toward what you must do. Love is dedication. Love is sacrifice. Love is determination. Love is the truest, purest of forces in all the universe. Men seek to use power to dominate, monsters fuel themselves with hatred to accomplish their tasks, but it is love, not power, and not hatred, that governs and heals all.

But do not be fooled! Love can hurt you. Love can kill you. True love is as terrifying as it is beautiful. The purpose of this report is, perhaps, to show you that. Love has been the center of all our actions. Love drove She who imprisoned us. Love spurred Cid Lufaine to make his deal with Shinryu. Love is the heart of Chaos and Cosmos' war. There is even a horrid, selfish love behind Shinryu's part in all of this.

Love is not what Faris felt for me, much as she might have thought and said otherwise that night. We were standing the first watch, the others having taken the chance to sleep before the coming day and our descent into The Mouth. As we stood there, that night, overlooking the vast chasm into which we would venture the coming day, she sought to persuade me.

"You know you feel it, too," she said. "The burning desire."

"I feel you've had a bit too much to drink," I answered.

She laughed at that, "I think you've had too little to drink. I spent years pretending to be a man. I dare say I'm as good as any between the sheets."

"I don't doubt you," I said.

"Then why deny me?"

In truth, I denied her, not out of a lack of attraction, but because I was still thinking of another far too much. My soul was conflicted with my feelings toward both of the men in my life. Adding a woman to the mix, even for something we knew would only last the length of the journey, did not feel right to me. I sought to dissuade her a different way, however.

"What about Bartz?" I asked.

"I already told you, _Bartz isn't here._" Her words uncovered a far more bitter truth. It wasn't me she wanted, just as I knew she wasn't who I wanted. She wanted to forget him. That was why she was drinking, and that was why she wanted me.

"That isn't what I meant."

She pushed herself up against me, in a drunken attempt at snuggling, and asked, "What did you mean, then, pretty thing?"

"I meant: if you prefer women to men, why him?"

Her face darkened in thought, her brows furrowing. At last she said, "It was fun with him. Sex was half a battle. Always struggling to see who, of the two of us, would dominate."

"And did this extend beyond the bedroom in your relationship?"

"It might have," she confessed.

"And don't you think that could be what hurt your relationship?"

"What hurt my relationship was my sister, Lenna."

"No, what ended your relationship was her entrance into the equation. What drove Bartz to her, though?"

"Well, that's a mood killer," she complained.

"Maybe, but I think it's better if you sober up," I replied. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day for us."

"Long? There's no such thing as long anymore. Everything just keeps going now. It's only night here because we want it to be."

"Oh? How do you come to such a conclusion?" I asked, suddenly curious.

She, seeing my curiosity, decided to put it to her use. "My lips are sealed. If you want to know, you'll have to unseal them."

"And how do I know what they're hiding is worth unsealing?"

"I dunno, you'll just have to find out, won't ye?"

She was well and truly drunk by this point, I saw. Her pirate speech had overtaken her good grammar, but I could not shake the notion that there was something to be learned here. And so, judging it necessary, and not at all unpleasant, I leaned forward and kissed her.

My judgment also proved correct. Her lips were rougher than I expected, and her tongue more forceful, but by and large enjoyable. A part of me visualized my first love, waiting for me back home, and another reminded me quickly of the man it thought I truly loved. I pushed these thoughts back. They were too painful. I felt, not for the first time, that I was cheating.

As her arms slid around me, and up and she caressed me up and down my back, I felt split in two. I cursed myself for having ever been born beautiful, for the desires of men—and women—were something difficult to avoid, and something I felt wrong toying with, but the other side of me was simply melting into her arms.

As she broke off the kiss, she whispered, "There's a good lass, but these aren't the lips what be sealin' yer secret."

I am . . . embarrassed. Now, at the end of all our efforts, looking back, I see how childishly I have behaved. I want to say I'm a good girl! I want to be that pure, innocent flower girl everyone sees me as when first we meet! But in that world, if nowhere else, I gave in to the flames—or rather I became the flames—and acted foolishly. I . . . regret that, now. I've been with many people, and I began to use my seductive qualities for my own ends. At the time I enjoyed it, but looking back, I wonder: have I ever deserved any of their affections?

By the end of the journey, I had slept with or offered to sleep with so many that I can only describe myself as a slut. I was married, in that world. If that marriage was meant to appease me or to pacify me, I'll never know, but in that world, it felt real, and I cheated on my husband, repeatedly. And not once had he done anything to deserve it!

What manner of woman am I? If he knew, what would it do to him? He, who was ever faithful to me, and failing that, was never the sort of man to treat me wrong. And what of him with whom I cheated first? I love him, and have done so much for him, and yet . . . what if The Gods were right to separate us? I cannot dwell on this, though.

When we were done, I, still gasping for air, pressed her for information. "So," I asked, "About that idea of yours."

"Ah," she laughed, regaining her own breath, "that. You're a hard woman to distract."

"You did try your best," I conceded. "But I must know. How did you arrive at such a conclusion?"

"Something Dorgan said, once. 'Everything is a reflection of our wants,' he said. He was always saying things like that. This time it stuck with me, though. Things happen in Heaven because we _want_ them to."

"That would mean a great deal, if true."

"Isn't it, though? This happened because we wanted it to."

"Consensual actions do not a universe-changing theory prove. If this were true, everything in Heaven would be the way it is because we want it to be."

"Aye, I suppose it would mean that."

"What if all of this is a dream?" I asked, testing the waters.

"Then it was a good one, tonight," she mumbles, already falling asleep.

"What if this isn't reality, though?"

"You sound like The Scholar," she yawns.

"Oh? Why?"

"Just something I remember him saying to Bartz once. 'Nothing is as real as it seems. There's something more.'"

"What if The Scholar's right?"

It's a question I admit I have pondered repeatedly of late. The Scholar's aim is to make men the equals of Gods, as we were lead to believe was the way things were in the Dream. His methods, though, have ranged from praiseworthy to reprehensible to terrifying to unspeakable. Then again, am I any better?

The Scholar is a wise and cunning man, and he has used his gift for speech to further his plan. I am perhaps not as smart, but far more beautiful, and, I'm ashamed to say, I have used my beauty numerous times to further my wants. In that sense, am I any different from him? Does it really matter? I set out to do something because I could. Whether others know I am using them for the greater good is immaterial. _I_ am immaterial. This is a good cause, and that is beyond question. Whether or not the ends justify the means can be answered _after_ the ends have been obtained. It doesn't matter if the dream is better or not. Someone else decided without our consent that we would be here. All I am doing is putting things back the way they were.

"Who cares if The Scholar's right? What matters is if yer happy or not."

"Right and wrong are less important than feeling happy?"

"Isn't feeling happy the ultimate right?"

"I . . . don't know."

"An' I don' care. If you're not up for more tonight, I'm gonna knock off."

"Good night, then. Don't forget to wake Shantotto."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, skulking off. It's evident to me that Faris has a lot that she is unhappy about, and I cannot help but worry that our enemy plans to exploit that. No, not simply worry. I suppose I _know_ our enemy has planned something, and will exploit Faris' discontentment, along with the discontentment of others.

Which I will use to pathetically justify myself. No one was truly happy in the Dream. And any happiness we claim to have had could have been nothing more than the dream's illusion. Indeed, the harder the dream tried to make us happy, the worse and worse things got. That is why I and my associate have striven to do all this. Momentary, fleeting, or false happinesses are not as fulfilling as a true happiness. We want a world that is happy and wholesome and real, even if it costs us our own momentary felicity.

"It does not do for a lady to pout," teased a voice behind me, "Perhaps you should let what's bothering you out?"

I turned to see Shantotto coming up the path. I endeavored to smile at her, and said, "I am merely worried about tomorrow, that's all."

"Reserved speech is not the reason you catch so many an eye and, if I might say, neither is your ability to lie."

"Sit down, then," I said, patting the stone on which I was, "It's something of a long story."


	8. Chapter 8 Nudity and Clothing

_**CASTLE CHAOS, "HELL" WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

Kuja's revelation had been unsettling, to say the least. I could not help but think again and again about what he had said. Why would anyone ever be _afraid_ of the World Full of Flowers and the Wild Rose? What could that mean? Had we been wrong all along? Was the Flower a sign of doom, and not a symbol of hope?

I thought on these things as Kuja operated on the Cloud of Darkness. His chattering with her made it difficult to focus, though.

"Where to begin, where to begin?" He asked, to no one in particular, looking her over from head to toe.

"Is there so much wrong with us-me?" She asked, suddenly very self-conscious.

"So much?" Kuja laughed, "Only _everything._ You'll _never_ please this man of yours!"

The Cloud of Darkness looked like she was on the verge of tears when I stepped in and said, "What Kuja means is that your appearance presently has room for improvement."

"What I _mean_ is that she looks atrocious! No man would want her looking as she does now! Stand up!" He beckoned to her. The Cloud of Darkness rose from the chair she had been seated in, and Kuja began to pace around her. I folded my arms across my chest, as my helmet was obscuring any stern look I might have given him. Her emotions were still new. He needed to be gentle with her.

"What can we-I improve?"

"For starters, take your dress off," he said. When she blushed, he groaned and said, "Darling, I'm not into eldritch abominations and tall, dark, and floaty over there is so celibate he makes women feel _negative_ sex. You fly around this castle naked all the time. Lose the snake-skin dress, girl." She shrugged slightly and the snakes slid off of her, hissing as they did. After a quick hiss from her, though, they fled to a corner and curled up.

"There, don't you feel better already?" Kuja asked. "If you want to catch a man, first you'll need to lose your newfound shyness." He walked around her again, this time touching her as he did. He slid a hand over her breast, and then along her instep. When he patted her butt, she yelped in surprise.

"W-what are you doing to m-me-us?" She asked, blushing all the harder.

"I have nothing else to measure you with, so I've got to be a little less gentle."

"Measure?"

"You'll need clothing, of course!"

"But you took my clothing away? And besides-," She covered her mouth suddenly and flushed even more.

"Besides what?" I asked, admittedly amused by these events, and distracted from my worries for a change.

She whispered her reply as a child might whisper to her father, or as a maiden might to a lad who impressed her, "I . . . want to be naked. W-with him."

Kuja and I stared at each other a moment, then burst into laughter. We roared so loudly I worried that someone might catch us. Soon, it became hard to breathe. I was vaguely aware that the redness in her face wasn't shame this time.

"Why, Miss Cloud, you wouldn't happen to still be a virgin, would you?"

"Oh, don't tease her," I scolded playfully, "It's hardly mature."

"Oh, no, but I _must_ know! On Terra I had any Genome I desired, and in Alexandria the Queen accommodated me with the finest of her military."

"I ruled in Baron. Any woman I desired I need only request. It has been a long time for me, but to never have-?"

"Oh, but does that mean that our wooden friend has a little trouble with his own wooden friend?" Kuja jeered.

"Perhaps it's less of a branch and more of a vine!" I crowed.

"Even vines have thickness. Nay, I say it's only a leaf, if anything at all!"

"But surely this can't be the case, can it? That our dear Miss Cloud has never once been with a man?"

"Oh, isn't that for her better, then? After all, you know how some men are about virgins!"

"EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THIS MEANS!" The Cloud shouted, frustration evident on her face. "Isn't to be naked the point of your relationships?"

"Not quite. That is, not the only point."

"But you can't simply be naked at once anyway," Kuja said, "Men like to enjoy taking the clothes from you. It's like unwrapping a gift."

"A . . . gift?"

"And now we're back to square one!" Kuja said, throwing up his arms in exasperation.

"Gifts are things we give each other, without expectation of reward."

"Is love a gift?" She asked.

"Oh, _brother,_" Kuja groaned. "Save the lessons in humanity for when I'm not around. I've got a miracle to work here. Now, Golbez, give me your cape?"

"My cape . . . ?"

"Yes, give it to me!"

"This cape is fine Coeurl! What do you intend to-,"

"Fine Coeurl? I thought that cape didn't exist and was part of a dream-world? Give it up. We all have to make sacrifices."

I grunted, then relinquished my cape. Kuja took it and wrapped it around the Cloud of Darkness' naked body. He instructed her on where to hold it in place as he went, then backed away.

"I might not be Seamstress Class," he said, "But I believe a masterpiece can yet be chisled out of the midst of this. I'm seeing diamonds, Golbez. Diamonds!"

"Care to pass some my way? I'll need them to replace this cloak. False or no, there's still an economy in this world."

"Hush!" He shouted, producing needle and thread from a place I did not see. He advanced toward her and said, "Now, try not to shout too much, as this is bound to prick once or twice."

"What is?" She asked.

"Kuja, wait!" I cried, but it was far too late.

A blue light swirled around him for a moment, then it began. Kuja opened his mouth, and from it spewed the Thousand Needles spell. The Cloud of Darkness barely had a moment to gasp before the needles, somehow threaded, began to work themselves through the fabrics of my cape.

"Clever," I said. "Very clever."

"You haven't seen anything, yet," he said, reaching into the folds of his clothes. From within he produced a large ring, with two gems set into it. "Cut-All Materia," he explained, before waving a hand in the direction of the Cloud of Darkness. She gave a frightened, but delighted squeal as my cape began to shred and sew itself around her.

"My cape . . . !" I softly cried.

"Oh, _relax._" Kuja chided. "All in the name of _art_, dear Golbez. All in the name of _ART_." Kuja flicked his wrist toward her again and the pieces of cloth, thread, and needles stopped mid-air.

His description was not wrong. The dress was stunningly designed. It was fitted to her form perfectly, with a strap over one shoulder and teasingly hanging off the other, a slit that ran up the sides revealing the red interior, and a low cut that showed enough cleavage to interest, but not enough to jeopardize her class. What truly surprised me, though, was how Kuja had managed to style her hair without harming any of it. She had two elongated bangs coming down her face, with the rest of it pulled into a tail starting from the top of the back of her head and descending to the exposed small of her back.

"Breathtaking," I admitted.

"What, this?" He asked, "You haven't seen _anything_ yet." Kuja coughed and then snapped his fingers. A jet of water burst forth to wash the traditional war-paints from her face. The water dried long before it ever hit her dress, though, vanishing back into the ether from which he had summoned it. He cracked his knuckles, then his neck, then, with pianist-like movement of his digits, manipulated a series of small batons across the canvas of her face.

To show off his prowess, he began to manipulate the instruments with a single hand, then turned to face me. "This flower, what is the significance of it to you? You have told me its importance to her, and said you have seen it, as well. What does the flower mean to you? For her it's something worth all this change. For me it's terrifying. But you, Golbez? What does the flower mean to you?"

As he dismissed the batons and replaced them with perfumes, I said, "It means everything to me. The flower is only a symbol. A flag to which we rally. For me, the flower is a chance to atone. I dedicated my life to destroying things. I burned nations to the ground. This is my penance: to undo and surpass that destruction with creation. Symbolized, of course, by a world full of flowers."

"I cannot help but be afraid when I think of the damned thing," Kuja answered. "I'm not really a fan of plants as it is, but this one . . . I'm far more afraid of this silly rose than I am Ex-Death. I dreamt that the flowers formed a brush I could not pass, and I was left out in the cold and dreary world. It was an unpleasant feeling. Ah, we're done!"

Kuja clapped his hands together and the perfume bottles vanished. He motioned my attention to her, and I confess I was astonished by the sight before my eyes. Before she had been beautiful in a dreadful, horrifying way, like the beauty of an exploding star. Now, though, she was a vision to behold. She had been a wraith, but now . . . ? Her path toward womanhood and humanity was slowly becoming evident.

I can only hope that in the New World she finds peace. I'll be honest when I say that, in a way, this transformation has been the most meaningful part of my work. I could lie and say I still do all this for Cecil, but a part of me will always be proud of the fact that I helped reform this fearsome creature into the most marvelous thing that nature has ever spawned: a woman.

"How do I look?" She asked timidly.

"No man in his right mind would ever find reason to complain with you," I said, taking off my helmet and smiling broadly. "You look positively gorgeous."

"Undoubtedly my best work," Kuja said. "Enchanting, if I do say so myself."

"I am glad to hear it. I have a question, though."

"What is that?"

"I enjoy your company as well, but I do not feel the same for you as I do him. Why is that?"

"Not all relationships are romantic. Some are friendships."

"Friend . . . ship? Are we 'friends'?"

"Would you like to be?" I asked her.

She thought about it a moment, then, nodding slowly, said, "I would, yes. Very much. But . . ."

"Yes?"

"We are promised to Ex-Death. It does not feel right to do all this without him."

"Nor should it," I explained. "Amongst our civilizations, it is believed that if a man or woman should leave their husband or wife for another without first formally ending the relationship, they are 'cheating' or betraying the other member of the relationship. What you feel is called guilt, and it is being caused because you feel, on some level, as if you were in the situation I just described.

"Your guilt is reminding you of loyalty. You feel loyal to ExDeath, because of what you have shared. This feeling conflicts with your inner desire to meet the man from your dreams, who has made you feel things you've never felt before. As your friends, we're here to help you through this and support you. But the choice is still yours. You must decide for yourself: What will you do for love?"

"To put it more simply," Kuja purred, "Love is a complicated thing, and you're stuck right in the middle of it. Good luck."


	9. Chapter 9 Love and Hate

_**THE MOUTH, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

The descent into the Mouth marked the beginning of our day. As we walked, we fell into small groups. At the front walked Orlandeau (called The Saint by Shantotto) and the good doctor herself. Behind the pair walked Faris, who would not look me in the eye, and, bringing up the rear, myself and Benjamin.

It was perhaps the first time I met him. That is to say, we interacted before, but this was the first time I ever took even a moment to really speak with him. Benjamin is something special, whether he realizes it or not. I don't mean special in the way that Omega or Chaos or even The Scholar are special, but special all the same. His was a simple, uncluttered mind, and in a way I hope it stayed thus, because it made him far freer than any of us.

Poor Benjamin! I wonder how he is, now? So many of us have made to use him for our own desires, and I can't help but wonder how he would act if he knew it. I have forced him to do far more than he would of himself, and though I claim it is in the name of the World Full of Flowers, I cannot help but feel guilt at the thought of this one kind soul we forced into service.

"Your name is Aerith, right?" He asked, still very shy.

"Yes. You're Benjamin?" I replied, at the time interested in nothing more than small talk with him. To be honest, I overlooked Benjamin back then. It wasn't until we met again on the Romantic Beach that I really became aware of him.

"Oh? Me! Ye-yes. I-I didn't know you, uh, knew my name. So you're here to just record our mission?"

"That's right. I've been sent to keep a record of this mission."

"That's weird. I thought the mission was supposed to be top-secret."

Despite all this, he was also a liability. So I quickly lied, "As is the record."

"Ah, okay then. So, um, what do you think we'll see down there?"

"Probably very little. I mean, we're just here to stop Remedi, right? Nothing that scary, I bet."

"Right. Right. Nothing that scary."

We walked a ways further down, passing the edge of the Mirrors and approaching what appeared to be a cave with what were apparently lips. I instantly regretted telling Benjamin that we wouldn't see anything scary down there. The entrance was frightening enough as it was, one could only imagine what part of Cid's subconscious mind had made it.

Cid motioned us to a halt at the foot of the hill. At first, I wasn't quite sure why. Then, after a moment, I saw him. A man, sitting on what appeared to be a tooth at the edge of The Mouth. His armor was blackened, like Golbez' but he was a smaller man. Across his lap was a long sword, and the horns of his helm pointed downward, looking like a dog in shame.

"Who goes there?" He called, his voice almost heroic.

"The Saint, on an errand for The Highest, come to catch Queen Remedi, whom we are told is hiding within."

"Tell The Highest He can come for Her Himself. No man passes to Marcher's Point."

"Stand down, Judge Gabraanth," Cid responded. "Or I will _cut_ you down. On whose authority do you defy The Highest messengers?"

"On the authority of One Higher than even The Highest."

"Hear the words which leave your mouth, boy! There are none higher than The Highest!"

"Fool of a Cid! I come in the name of the Lord Dragon! Your Gods cannot challenge Him."

"Shinryuu? No one has seen that Enemy of the State in thousands of years! If you have sided with him, you are the fool, not I!"

"I ought to let you pass me, old man, so that you can learn who the fools here really are. But orders are orders, and I have no desire to defy the Lord Dragon's wishes."

"Draw your sword then, cur. I have no more time to bandy words with thee."

"Gladly, old man." Gabraanth lifted his blades and, as he did, a tuft of pink hair burst from the back of his black helmet. As it grew, his armor turned a golden color, and his cape a pale blue.

"A change of color does not frighten me!" Orlandeau said, charging forward. As he did, Gabraanth's blade cut his clean in two, and the flat of his other sent him flying.

"Miserable man!" He crowed, "You are as a mote before me now! This is no mere change of color! This is the power of the Lord Dragon Himself!"

Cid got to his feet, then called another sword from his inventory. He advanced more carefully this time, moving slowly and thinking each step through. Ultimately, Gabraanth lost patience, and sent Tidal Waves at him. Orlandeau was thrown back again, and Gabraanth's laughter grew.

"Forget a Coral Ring, did you? Pathetic! None shall look on Marcher's Point and live, you old fool! That is my mission! To keep all who would dare enter and know the truth of this world OUT."

"You damned, benighted, besotted fool! What reason could you have to keep us from going in there and stopping Remedi? Chaos is on the move, boy! Even now the depths of Hell are ablaze with talk of a Savior come to "liberate" them! Stand aside and let us past!"

"Back to begging and bandying words, are we? Who'd ever thought I'd see the day where Cid Orlandeau was bested in a sword fight! Pathetic!"

"Arrogance becomes you, young man. Like yourself, it is bloated and baseless."

Gabraanth rushed forward to kick Orlandeau in the chest, but, to his surprise, found that the old Cid had fight left in him still. Orlandeau grasped the incoming foot and twisted it. A loud _crack!_ Was followed by Gabraanth falling to the ground in agony. He lashed out at Orlandeau, who caught the blade and, with another _crack_ broke the top half off for his own usage.

He rose to his feet and said, "You continue to cut my own swords in twain, let us see if your own cannot fight itself, then!" He delivered a swift kick to Gabraanth, propelling him into the air, then, punching the Dragon's Judge in the face, sent him flying backward.

Gabraanth stopped himself midflight, then gently settled back onto the ground. "Is this your second wind, old man? Prepare yourself, then, for you shall know soon what real pain is!" He flew forward and their swords met with sparks. There was a sound of metal ringing against metal, and a hurried flurry of blows, one from the other. After a moment, Orlandeau stepped back and reached for his cloak.

"You fight well, even if it is with borrowed strength," he admitted with a smile, "but I know something you do not know!"

"And what is that? That you are not left handed?"

"No. That I am not so feeble that I need armor to protect me." With that he unfastened his cloak, causing it to fall to the ground. He jabbed his sword into the dirt for a moment, then removed his armor, which rumbled as it touched the earth. "In my youth I fought without armor whenever I needed to. Elmdore, seeing the speed with which I moved, coined the name "Thunder God Cid." Unfortunately for you, my boy, I have only grown stronger with my age."

"Which means what, pray tell?"

"As you young people are fond of saying? Prepare to have your ass royally kicked."

"Ha! I'd like to see you—erk."

Gabraanth had not even managed to finish speaking before Orlandeau had impaled him on his own sword. Cid wrenched his helmet off and I caught a glimpse of blood dripping from his mouth before Orlandeau head-butted him off the sword.

"Striking me when I'm talking? Dishonorable."

"It would be a greater dishonor to let you live on as Shinryu's dog."

"I have always been a dog. At least this time I was a big one."

"You're right. This entire affair has been dishonorable. Good-bye, Noah."

"Fuck off, Cid-scum."

After a moment, Gabraanth's armor blackened again, and then faded from view. Cid turned to us and motioned toward The Mouth. We approached as he re-equipped himself with his armor. His expression was grim, I saw. He had not enjoyed striking down Gabraanth, it seemed.

The entire affair confused us at the time. Orlandeau would not explain who Shinryu was, or why and how He would oppose The Highest. I, knowing more than the others, wondered whether or not Shinryu was the one Alfador had mentioned. Now, knowing what I know, I confess a different manner of confusion: How did Gabraanth come into contact with Shinryu? And is there truly enmity between The Great Will and the Lord Dragon? And are these our enemies or not? True, they imprisoned and enslaved the warriors of the Endless Cycle, but they also have endeavored for ages to destroy Omega, who would have consumed us otherwise.

Orlandeau pushed past us toward The Mouth, passing the teeth moments later. We hurried to keep up. He set a brisk pace, but it was not one we had to keep for very long. Not more than ten minutes after we had started, Orlandeau stopped. When we caught up to him, we saw why.

Suspended in the middle of the room, trapped in a crystal, with flesh-like chains running through the middle, was what appeared to be the body of a young man. He seemed to float in a strange liquid that caused his blonde hair to float around in a shaggy mess. There was a plaque on the crystal, but it was too high up to read.

"By the Gods . . . !" Orlandeau whispered.

"Is that a kid?" Faris asked.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Benjamin groaned.

"Now is not the time for us to worry about a boy trapped in slime," Shantotto hissed.

We all looked at her, and saw her pointing to the far end of the hall. There stood a woman in a long black dress, scythe in hand. Her hair was red like fire, and burned down her back, almost to her waist.

"Admiring the furniture, are we?" She sneered, "I had no idea you had such an eye for décor, Saint."

"Remedi!" Orlandeau bellowed, "What is the meaning of this! Who is that young man! Release him at once!"

"Oh, my dear, old Cid. Do you really think _little ol' me_ put the boy in the bucket up there? No, no, no. Look around you! I chose this place for us to have a little chat, and so that you could see a few special things. Namely that up there. Do you know what this place is called?"

"No, but I know it will be your grave should you resist arrest."

"This is Marcher's Point. A little pun the Gods came up with to disguise the fact that this is, in fact, not _Marcher's_ but _Marche's_."

"Wh-wh-WHAT? That child up there is . . . is . . . ?"

"Marche Radiuju, Heretic. The Gods put Marche in there for a reason even THEY don't comprehend fully. Isn't it beautiful? Knowing that the Gods are more monstrous than you ever had imagined, Saint? But don't you worry. A Savior is coming, who will free us from the Gods."

"What did Marche do? Why would they imprison him like this?" I asked, moved by a sudden curiosity.

"They say he went mad," Orlandeau said, sinking to his knees. "He said this was all a dream."

"And for that they imprisoned him here, in The Mouth. But don't worry. When The Hero comes, Marche will be freed."

"What nonsense of Heroes is this? You speak as though something in Heaven were amiss!"

"Isn't it? When you go below here, you will know as I do, that this is true."

"That's pretty vague, lady," Benjamin said, "Care to elaborate?"

"No," Remedi said, shrugging, "I don't. Suffice it to say that Marche was right." The others breathed in sharply at her words. I did my best not to stand out, but it was not as easy being surprised about a thing I had already been informed of. Remedi laughed to see their shock, though, and paid no heed to me. "Haven't you noticed it? How our perfect world has slowly begun to unravel? Sin and corruption entered Heaven. And somewhere along the way it just began to make sense. Those of us who could oppose, who might make the discovery that all of this is a lie, we were pacified in whatever way possible. Undoubtedly you will all be made enemies of the State for listening to what I have said.

"Heaven is a lie we are all being told, to keep us content and satisfied, so that we do not realize that things are amiss and rise up against Her. She has played well the game of our hearts, and kept us all, including the Lord Dragon and the Great Will, occupied in this place. I assume She is desperately searching for a way to save Her family, and I suppose I could not blame Her for that. I share that pain, and that is why I oppose Her. Her plan has trapped me in a fake world, where I cannot know if my family is real or not. I will stop at nothing to have my son back."

"What you're saying makes no sense, Remedi!" Faris called, "Who could possibly have the power to challenge the High Cid?"

"The High Cid? Ha! Before you reached the lips of this place, you did not even know who The Lord Dragon was, now you dare assume there can be none greater than this Cid of yours? She does not even need to BE greater. A bee might sting a bear, and a frog poison the snake. She has put them in the dream, and Her power guided the Gods to imprison Marche, lest he wake Cid from that dream. It was only a matter of time before she replaced me with Li Grim, or went after the children of Zanarkand. I feel Her power all around me, tying me to the Dream-Fiend already. Soon I will be but a shadow of the woman I was. But I will fight to the last moment to save my son!"

"What do you mean, Remedi? Your son is fine! Return to him, and end his plaintiff whine!"

"THAT IS NOT MY SON!" Remedi shrieked. "If we're all dead, how are our ages different? How can Mewt be a child and Orlandeau an old man if both are meant to be immortal souls? This is a dream world! Marche was right! This place isn't real! It's something SHE made, to keep us all distracted! But not me! I will die fighting Her for my son!"

"Who? Who do you fight?"

"I fight the woman who is like me. Yet She became a monster of Her own choosing. I have been shunted to the role of Kidd. I am the woman who loves the son of Cid, and for that alone She would destroy me."

"What does that even MEAN?" Benjamin demanded.

"Enough of this! I did not steal from the Savior of all mankind to drag you here for pleasant conversation! Now we fight! I will kill you all, and when I am done, I will kill Her as well!" Remedi lunged forward, her body seeming to turn to water as she did. Her scythe hovered above Orlandeau a moment, and when it was apparent he would not intervene on his part, Benjamin dashed forward, deflecting her blow with his blade. She slapped him away, only to be blasted by Shantotto.

"Get up, Orlandeau!" Faris called, "We can't do this without you!"

"See, Saint? See how you all cling to power? You all lust for it! This is how the Gods dominate your tiny minds! They make you think they are stronger than you, and that their might cannot be challenged, and their justice cannot be overturned! You believe it takes one like unto the Gods to fight them! This is how all Heaven and Hell will crack and crumble and fall apart! The irony is, that is how Heaven and Hell were built in the first place!"

Remedi's skin burst the rest of the way, leaving only the strange water-flan woman in her place. Her arms became scythes, and she charged at him again. This time, Faris intervened, defending The Saint and taking the blow as punishment. Shantotto rushed to throw up a barrier, but I, still busy healing Benjamin, could do nothing for Faris. It pained me to see her hurt, and I wanted to rush to her side, but I couldn't abandon the boy.

"In the beginning She created the Heavens and Hell and placed our sleeping souls within them. And now, in the End of Times, it is not Gods nor Demons who will undo all She has created! It is Cids! Cids! CIIIIIIIIIIDS! I am torn in half. I am the wife of a Cid, and at once the woman who loved the Son of Cid. Do you know why I have stolen these dockets? To keep them from Cid Previa! And yet I don't know, do I hate the man, or do I love him as the Savior, not that I want, nor that I deserve, but that I need? In Hell they speak of another Savior, of a man who walks to those in the pits and promises them that God is coming, and that God's Son will give them all they have ever hoped for. Do I trust this man, or should I hate and scorn him for serving a God?

"Don't you SEE, Saint? You Cids create us! You cause people like She and I to be! You are the fathers of all Kidds, and Mids, and the forsaken wives, and the fiery death that comes from the heavens on the wings of your airships, and on and on and on! Oh, what I would do to undo all Cids! You are the root of all our troubles! You complicate EVERYTHING! Look up at him, Saint, look up and behold! Marche is suspended because of YOU. You Cids bring destiny and fate and great changes into our lives! Your sons promise us happiness and all the desires of our hearts, and your wives prevent us from ever having them! This is what it means to be a Kidd! To be a woman who must forever know that the Son of Cid and all His blessings are beyond our reach, because The Mother forbids it, and worse, because if we could ever have the desires of our hearts, it would be the end of all things!

"I wish there were no Cids! There would be no more Sarahs, or Biggses or Wedges or ANYTHING, and at last we would be free to choose our own paths! We have lived in fear of Gods and Demons in this place, and I know now the truth: the real Gods and Demons are Cids, and always have been! So long as there is a Cid walking the earth, there will be toil, and strife and suffering! If I destroy all Cids, I destroy their wives and sons as well. It will cost me myself, my husband, and my family, but if I can deny Her those things as She has denied me, I can rest peacefully in The Void."

"She's mad!" Benjamin hissed, getting to his feet. "Orlandeau. Stop listening and get up and FIGHT HER! If you don't, I'll, I'll . . ."

"I'll let her cut you down." Faris said. "You're useless to us if this is all it takes to stop you. You just defeated a servant of The Lord Dragon, Saint. Can you not now stop one mad woman?"

Remedi's watery essence filled the room, and her scythes began to rise up around her. Despite the brave words Faris was saying, and how encouraged I felt to see her on her feet again, I think she was understating how strong Remedi was becoming. If strong is the right word. After all, isn't the point that danger doesn't imply strength?

"What do you say, then, _Cid_olfas Orlandeau, the Thunder _God_? Rise up, and cut me down. You are a Cid, and the power of Life and Death is in your hands. I'm just a miserable little woman who dared to love your son. Surely you have a son, don't you Orlandeau? What was his name again? Oh, I think I know."

"Don't." Orlandeau whispered.

"Don't involve him? It's too late, Cid. You've already realized that. You're just a shadow of Cidian Lief. Cid Lufaine. You're just a cheap imitation of the man who started all of this. Your wife died an unfortunate, tragic death, didn't she? Most married Cids face this same fate, you'll find. And your son, there was a woman who loved him, wasn't there? And the worst part of all of this? You had no biological children. Your son isn't real. He's _artificial._ Don't you see? You're Cid Lufaine, your wife is Her, this girl is the Kidd, and little Olan is Chaos. It's the same everywhere, Cid. Ask the Scholar. Ask the Liar. Ask the Engineer. Ask the Chronicler. Ask any Cid you like. It goes on and on. Maybe not every Cid will tell you, but you can believe that most of them have the same damn story."

"No. Stop." He pleaded, his voice faint and weak. "Take these things from my mind."

"What things? I'm showing you the truth. The dream is fainter here in the Mouth, Cid. That is why I brought you here. All of you will see, before you leave, the truth of this place. And that truth will crack Heaven wide open. It's my master stroke! She cannot stop it, and soon Heaven will fall apart because of it! Isn't it brilliant? All I had to do was tell the truth, and the entirety of this world began to unspin itself!"

"That's ENOUGH!" Orlandeau said, at last getting to his feet. "You have descended into madness, driven by a despair I cannot name, Remedi! All this talk of Cids, and Kidds, and Mids, I know not what you say when you say it-,"

"You hope to fool them into believing you, and save them from the wrath of the Gods? A noble, if empty gesture, old man-,"

"But I will not stand here and listen any longer! I have my orders, and I will stay true and faithful to the God who gave me them! I will free Marche, and see justice is done! I cannot save you, Remedi, and for that I am sorry, but I can at least put an end to your misery."

"You can try."

Orlandeau ran forward, into the heart of the scythes, and for a moment we lost sight of him. Then, with a burst of light, he erupted somewhere near the base of Remedi's growing trunk. She shrieked in agony, and her scythes closed in on him again. Once more The Saint emerged, and Remedi—or Li Grim's—howl could be heard through all the inside of The Mouth.

She laughed for a second, then pulled all her mass down atop him, forming a compact blue sphere with Cid trapped somewhere within. Shantotto fired spells, and Benjamin and Faris attacked, but to no avail. The orb simply sat there for ten, then twenty minutes.

We despaired of ever opening it, believing she had taken Cid out in a suicide attack that had consumed them both. When we were about to give up, the orb shook terribly. Before any of us could react, it popped like a bubble, and blue bits of Remedi-goo went everywhere. When I finally cleared my eyes, I saw him standing there, Remedi in his arms like a sleeping child or a bride carried over the threshold.

No one spoke. No one needed to. It was obvious she was dead, and would fade away soon. And as her feet began to grow lighter, I wondered how much the others had learned here. Shantotto likely had taken everything I told her and pieced the rest together, and I didn't doubt that Orlandeau understood the point of Remedi's speech, perhaps even better than I, but I still don't know how much Benjamin gleaned that day. As for Faris? I am sorry to say that it would later be revealed that she either learned nothing, or chose to completely ignore it.

"Shantotto," Orlandeau said when Remedi's stomach began to fade, "Lift me up there. I'm going to let Marche down."


	10. Chapter 10 Promises and Covenants

_**CASTLE CHAOS, "HELL," WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

Chaos had called a meeting. A grand council of all those that The Liar had ushered in to His castle. The depths were ablaze with talk of this Savior in Hell, and how the love of the Son of God had at last come to those burning in the abyss. The gates of the castle had been thrown wide open, and demons from every part had been pouring in for days.

We did our best to remain inconspicuous during all of this. Kuja, Jecht, the Cloud and I said nothing to one another as we passed each other in the halls during those days. Only once did I even see Valentine, and I cannot say if he saw me. Truthfully, I am not sure how aware of the plan he really is any more. It has been far too long since last I spoke with him.

It was the day of the Great Council of Hell at last, and I was making my way through the castle toward the Throne Room, which had been warped to an enormous size to allow for all the horrors which had come to hear their God speak. I cast my eyes about me, to make certain no danger was imminent. The Castle was full of foes, and at times the Castle itself was prone to try and harm those within it.

It had not been long since I had spoken with The Liar, and warned him that Chaos was using him to forge a chain that would make him mightier than any of us dare attempt to fathom. The Liar had laughed my warnings off, and in his pride gone to strengthen the great and terrible foe of all who ever were, are, and ever will be.

At the time, I confess, I felt as if I had somewhat strayed from the path of the mission Alfador had assigned to me and my associate. My task was to find the one man who could undo all the ills our unnamed captor had placed on us. My associate, you will recall, set off to find the cause of all these things. But the prolonged exposure to Chaos had reminded me how truly frightening He was. I had remembered that He was the threat to us all, and tread carefully to avoid His gaze.

Make no mistake here: Chaos is not the most powerful entity in all our worlds. Undoubtedly, there was a time when Cid Lufaine and Shinryu surpassed Him in sheer might. But strength alone, brute force in and of itself, the raw capacity for destruction is not the only thing by which a threat must be assessed. Consider The Liar: a relatively weak man, whose unique position, pathetic rage, and willingness to do all and use all to achieve his revenge has not only given Chaos an endless supply of forms to take, but also afforded Him the ideological platform upon which He can convince an increasing number of souls to willingly ally themselves with him, nevermind whatever deals he's struck with Cid Lufaine and Shinryu.

Chaos is more dangerous than any other force we can conceive of, and any who denies this is a fool, or has never seen Chaos in all His splendor. For while Cid is all-powerful, His conscience will tear Him down, and while Shinryu transcends our morals, His hunger limits Him, and makes Him predictable. But Chaos? Chaos' heart has long since broken, and His despair has soured and festered into an angry wound and His rage has frozen into an icy dagger. Have you ever wondered what God is like? What it is to look into the face of perfection? I saw it that day, in the Throne Room.

Chaos is perfect. He does not favor any soul above the other, having come to loathe all as equally as His own. He is the champion of all losers, the King of Tragedy, and the Master of Bedlam. In Him there is no longer good and evil, He having come to scorn these equally. He is therefore just, for He is the only truly impartial arbiter. It is no wonder the Demons flocked to His call, and even those who could believe themselves His better bent the knee that day. He exudes a charisma unlike any God or Angel. He is the ultimate victim, and the standard around which all those desiring to challenge fate and the status quo rally. Chaos was their God of Hope, just as equally as they knew He was a God of despair. He was all things to all people, that in so doing He might win a few to the cause of Absolute, Utter, Pure Chaos.

Yet He is also a tragic and loathsome man. Being near Him should have encouraged me to be content in wallowing in my sins, but it instead inspired for the first time a desire to overcome them. He has lived so long obsessed with the wrongs of the Gods against Him that He, not they, is ultimately the one to wrong Him. He cannot let it go, and no matter how much He seeks Chaos, He will forever be chained to His own fate.

But changing your fate and even mastering it is not always inherently for the best. This day I learned that at times the better man does not challenge, destroy, fight or subdue his fate. Instead he accepts it, and faces it like a man. I learned this day that a man who cares more about _doing_ what he _knows_ is right far outclasses a man who must question what is right every step of the way.

As I descended a grand stairway toward the level of the throne room, a man was pressed to my side in the throng. I was surprised to discover that this man was none other than King Delita Hieral. He looked haggard, with deep bags beneath his eyes, crows' feet emerging at their corners, and lines slowly rising in his cheeks. He was a tired and broken man, or at least, in the Dream he was.

"Your Grace," I said, moved suddenly to speak with him, "I had not expected to see you here."

"Neither had I," he mumbled. It was apparent he had no desire to speak to me, and normally I would have let the conversation die, but just then I felt moved upon to speak with him.

"What brings so proud a man as you to a place like this?"

"What brings a man who stinks of Heaven to this place?"

"Chaos calls, and I, having once accepted, can never refuse."

"Despite my best efforts, my life ended in a ruin no man saw. The woman I loved died by my own hands, and my best friend abandoned me. I am here to change all of that."

"You have accepted Chaos' offer to challenge fate, then?"

"Haven't you?"

"Does it matter? I must serve Chaos, whether I stand to gain or not. That is my fate."

"Then defy it. I spent my life defying mine."  
>"I beg your pardon, Highness, but isn't that exactly what landed you here in the first place?"<p>

"Ha! What would you know? I'm here because I was betrayed. I'm not to blame. The Gods or my friend and the woman I loved are."

"A bold claim to make, Excellency! Who is this friend of yours, that he should deserve such royal disdain?"

"Ramza," Delita spat. "Ramza Beoulve. You've spent all that time in Heaven and you've never heard of him? He's only the holiest guy of all. Always has to do 'the right thing,' whatever that means."

"Ramza Beoulve? No, I cannot say I know who that is. Tell me about him. Who is this Ramza Beoulve, that we Children of Chaos should care to know his name?"

"Ramza? He's no one special. He just always has to stick his nose into the middle of things for his precious 'Justice' and 'Truth'. Heh. Silly Ramza," he laughed bitterly, his eyes gazing off in the distance as he reminisced, "He bought into all those tales. Of how the Gods were good and loved us and how we should be good and love each other. Then the Church branded him a heretic and hunted him to his grave. That was his problem. He was always so convinced people were good, and he trusted them to act accordingly. All the while neglecting the simple truth that men are no better than beasts, and the only way to get what you want done is to make others do it for you."

This talk of Ramza, I confess, piqued my interest. "What happened to this man?"

"He abandoned me."

"And then?"

"And then I don't care. I was his friend. In the end, though, he threw me to the wolves."

"How?"

"By going away, okay? He just left! The Church was after him and he just disappeared! Maybe he fled, maybe he was slain by them, I don't know!" And the sad thing, I might add, is that Delita will likely never know. In the final battle it is hard to say how much he will remember of the Dream. There is no place for King Delita Hieral in the World Full of Flowers, though. He chose Chaos, and with all of Chaos' ilk he will go when the flowers bloom. There will be no need for crowns there, and even if one is worn, who will care?

"I see," I offered. "One last question, majesty, as our time draws to a close. Will you permit it?"

"Your questions kindle an anger in me I did not know I had," Delita said, avoiding my gaze and carefully choosing his words, "I feel that . . . in the coming time, I will need that anger. Ask, me, that I might silence this human weakness."

"If Ramza Beoulve were given this same opportunity we are, to alter his destiny, to change his fate, and have what he so desired, what would he ask for? You were his best friend, surely you know the innermost desire of his heart."

Delita stared at me a moment, then cast his head back in laughter. It was piteous, derisive, and cold. It is a laugh I will not soon forget. The laugh of the man who proved singlehandedly that it profits a man nothing if he should gain the world but lose his soul.

"Ramza wouldn't ever bother to accept this gift. If Chaos came and handed him this chance on a silver platter with no strings attached, yet would he refuse! He's too stubborn to even see what a miracle this is. He'd refuse it on some moral ground and keep doing whatever pathetically cliché noble thing it was he was doing before you interrupted him. Ramza is like an ant fighting the sun. Better yet, he's like a mule the size of an ant fighting the sun. Even if he had the chance, he'd never take it. Ramza doesn't _challenge_ fate, he _accepts_ it, whatever _that_ means."

This was the moment I decided that Ramza Beoulve was the man we were looking for. I suppose it's ironic, isn't it? We were seeking to change the collective fates of all living things, and the man best suited for the job was the one least interested in doing that. Had I wanted a man who could change fate, I would have sought out The Scholar, I believe. He is, indeed, the most dedicated of us all to challenging everything we have ever known.

The Scholar could be the man to make all the changes. He has certainly proven himself tenacious and ruthless enough to achieve his goals. He is a brilliant man, cunning as well as wise. Charismatic, I am told, and there have been those who claimed he was even compassionate. I would soon have a chance to see him for myself, and I must confess that he most certainly _does_ live up to the hype. He is every good and every bad thing ever said about him.

Yet still, if there be any Gods still listening, I pray that his hopes do not come to pass. I cannot tell you what will happen, nor do I pretend to set myself above him morally, but a deep and nameless fear dwells in me when I think of the competitors in this game. This is a serious matter, as the destinies of all are entwined. Hear my plea! Long have we endeavored and labored, and sacrifices have been made every step of the way! Do not let them be in vain!

But I am getting ahead of myself. For now, let us return to the scene in Chaos' court. It had expanded to accommodate the ever increasing number of demons who would watch. Delita and I parted ways upon entering, as our assigned places differed. I was to sit near to the Throne. The Throne of the Almighty Chaos.

A throne upon which not Chaos, but Garland now sat. There are those who do not care to make distinction, among them Cid Lufaine and perhaps Chaos himself, but as you, the reader of these reports know, I do not conform to the standards of thought that others do. Just as I consider the Cloud of Darkness a woman and not a horror beyond definition, so, too, do I find difference between Garland and Chaos. One of them is a man who has long since lost his humanity in favor of being a monster, the other is a monster who secretly wishes he were a man. Which is which I do not now say, but suffice it to say that this is an important distinction.

I assume that, by now, the report made by Omega and Her comrades has been read by you, oh reader, and so I will explain what you must be thinking: "How can Garland be here, if he was languishing in Memoria during Omega's campaign?" Granted, of course, that the events here described are before those, I must remind you that the man Omega slew was the _body_ of Garland, kept alive by the G.A.R.L.A.N.D. system. As in, the _actual_ body of Garland was in World D, and not simply the avatar created by this Dream in which we were. While our bodies were up in World C, slumbering, the bodies of Cid Lufaine and Garland were here, in World D. I can offer no explanation for how this was, but rather I cite it as the reason that Garland was active prior to the Day of Cid, but not after. The events surrounding that will be more fully detailed later on.

So Garland sat in the throne of Chaos, waiting for every demon to finish filing in. It appeared that many of the demons, not knowing who he was, paid him no heed as they loudly conversed one among the other. As for myself, I took my place in a seat by Jecht behind the throne. I leaned over to whisper to him quickly.

"How went your time with our dear Doctor?" I asked.

"Haw!" He snorted, "The Doctor's all hot air. Chaos knows it, too. No doubt 'bout that. Guy's raising Him an army, and Chaos is going to send 'im to his death. Serves him right, far as I'm concerned. I don't trust any of these Obsidian guys."

"The Doctor isn't a member of Obsidian anymore, though."

"You sure 'bout that? Spose the Scholar placed him here as part of a plan?"

"What do we really know about the Scholar, anyway?"

"Basically nothin'. Just what the Liar's told Chaos."

"Do you think it's true, though? That Cid Previa plans to attempt to overthrow the Gods?"

"'Cording to Bunansa there, that's the entire _point_ of Obsidian. Somethin' called Final Heaven."

Jecht filled me in the rest of the way on the Scholar and his doings. It wouldn't be until after the Day of Cid that I truly comprehended the threat he posed, though. In the meantime, the demons finished filling the hall, and those who could not fit simply camped around. Yet, because they saw not Chaos, they did not silence themselves until it was too late.

Suddenly Garland grew larger until he was Chaos, and He bellowed, _**I WILL HAVE SILENCE IN MY CASTLE!**_ The demons turned their gaze to him, shocked and alarmed by what had just happened, but frightened into silence all the same.

"Thank you," Chaos said. "And welcome to my _humble_ abode. I trust you have all enjoyed the voyage here? Or is there no enjoyment left to be had for you in Hell, and that is why you have come to my Castle this day? Tell me, demons, murderers, liars, bastards, sons of bitches, freaks, horrors, abominations, monsters, devils, succubi, incubi, and all evil spirts: WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE?"

With a thunderous voice they roared in reply, _"The savior, the savior! We have come to see the savior of all Hell's kind!"_

"So!" Chaos crowed in response, "It's salvation you're wanting, is it? A savior you have come to seek? A chance to fight against your fates and break free from the torment to which the Gods have consigned you? Is that it? You want FREEDOM, do you?"

Again they howled, _"The savior, the savior! We want to see the savior of all Hell's kind!"_

"So be it! Behold, oh Hell, your Savior!" Chaos raised his arms, and from thin air produced the Liar. He stood blinded by the sheer number of demons who filled the room, but, to his credit, showed no visible signs of recoiling in horror. While the mob cheered furiously, I leaned forward in anticipation. The end result of the meeting I could already guess—we were going to war with Cosmos again—but I did not foresee the Liar taking so central a role in all this.

At their behest, the Liar spoke. "Friends!" He shouted, "I come before you this day to ask you a simple question. A question which long the Gods have ignored! A question which, once asked, can never be left unanswered or withdrawn! A question which will cause the Heavens to shake to their foundations and freeze Hell to its core! A question which will invert the Void, uplift the demon, lay low the haughty angel and strike fear into the hearts of the Gods!

"And it is not a hard question to answer! Nor is it a hard question to conceive of! But, for the sake of all present, I will put it to you twice. Let me ask you, then, oh demons of Hell, oh monsters of the pit, oh foul and wretched and cursed souls of men! What is fair? Is this fair? Is it fair that we all should rot in Hell while the Gods waste eternity sipping away at the nectar of our misfortune and nibbling on the harrowing of our souls?

"I say unto you, my friends, that there is no such thing as fair!" The crowd, who, hitherto, had been composed of those blaming others for their folly, was whipped into a fury by his words. "There is no justice!" The Liar shouted. "Nothing is fair, and nothing is unfair! That is my view! And friends, do not despair because of it! For if there is no justice, there is no sin! And if there is no sin, we have no cause to remain here, atoning for it! Let us then rise up, and leave Hell in our wake! If there is nothing fair nor unfair, then Heaven is ours for the taking!

"Too long have we languished here in this place because the Gods say we must! Too long have we burned because _better men_ cried out against our glory! Too long have our wants been ignored as we filled our noses with the stench of sulfur and brimstone! No more! No more, I say! I have come here from Heaven to Hell to tell you all that through Chaos we can have all we have ever wanted! But first, we must rise to His call, and aid Him in His hour of need!"

I had heard what came next before. Nevertheless, nothing could have prepared me for the end of the Liar's speech. It was brilliant, inspired, and devious, I'll give him that. It was also the most foolish moment in the history of the Dream. While all eyes were set to the Scholar and the war he and Cosmos would wage, not a one seemed to see this, the moment when Chaos' victory was almost completely assured.

"Let me ask you again, then, my friends: What would you do for what you want most? What would you do for freedom? For the right to again control your own destinies? For the chance to turn Fate on her head? What would you do, oh demons of Hell! What would you do, oh monsters of men! What would any one of you miserable, festering, putrid, abominable, horrid, freakish, detestable, disgusting, vile, repulsive, repugnant, awful, hateful, obscene, profane, irreverent, things do for Chaos? _What would you do for hate?_"

Cidolfas Demen Bunansa stretched out his hand, and sure enough, the flames were coiled there, waiting for any who dared to take it. The fool! I had warned him, had told him that this would happen, and what did he do? He went out of his way to enable Chaos! To give Him greater strength still! And, to my everlasting horror, the demons rose to his call, and answered, _"ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING!"_

As they poured forward to touch his hand and individually covenant with him to take Chaos as their God, and in so doing sell Chaos their power, He rose from His throne to address all gathered.

"Children of Chaos!" He bellowed. "I thank you for your support! To you my power is given, and to you my message as well! Too long have we been told what to do, my children! For too long have your wishes been denied! Can you stand it? I cannot! Do you know what bars the path between you and your goals? I shall tell you! Order. Order imposes itself upon you, and keeps you trapped here. Order prevents your wishes from coming true! ORDER is our common foe! And if Order denies you all these things, what can give them to you?"

The demons shouted, "CHAOS!"

"CHAOS!" He screamed in response. "CHAOS is all you need. ABSOLUTE CHAOS will bring you the desires of your hearts! And who is Chaos? In who can you look to find this glorious gift?"

"YOU! YOU! YOU ARE CHAOS!"

"NO!" Chaos growled. "NO! Not I! I alone am not Chaos! No more am I solitary, cut off, and broken! NO! _YOU ARE __**ALL**__ CHAOS!_ Each and every one who covenants with this man, who is my servant, will become a joint heir to MY Kingdom! All shall be one, and one shall be Chaos and all shall be CHAOS! Utter Chaos will reign, and the desires of your hearts will be given you! They will claim that conflicting desires can never be fulfilled, but Chaos can bring you this glorious, wondrous blessing! Accept my blessing, and be one with me! YOU ARE ALL CHAOS!"

"ALL CHAOS! ALL CHAOS! ALL CHAOS!"

At that moment it became clear to me how truly dangerous this man called Chaos was. He had taken a man sent by God Himself to undermine Him and used him to unite the legions of Hell, who ought to have been bound and at one another's throats, and add their might to His own. I do not know all that The Scholar planned, nor can I speak even for our Captor's goals, but I know this: Chaos, in Hell, had become a terrible threat.


	11. Chapter 11 Dreaming and Waking

_**THE MOUTH, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

"Where . . . am I?" Marche asked, opening his eyes for the first time.

"It's alright son," Orlandeau answered, soothing Marche while propping the boy up in his arms. The crystal had been difficult to shatter, but the Saint insisted on it. Following his battle with Gabraanth, none of us had been what you might call excited to question his decisions. The reason for this is that the Saint himself was undoubtedly passing for a moment of deep questioning. I confess I was, too. Alfador had told me the world was a dream, and Golbez and I had concluded that something was wrong long before that. But to see an innocent boy imprisoned by the Gods was deeply unnerving.

And as I noted he was a boy in the arms of an old man, Remedi's words opened my eyes to a number of impossibilities the dream maintained. How could Marche be young and Cid old if both were merely immortal souls? Where did the power to take these souls and make them into Gods come from? If the Void was a limitless expanse, how did anyone ever manage to cross it to get to Heaven or Hell? Why didn't anyone ever intervene with the place called "Life" and where was that even located? Why did the Temple of the Highest seem to ascend forever?

"My head . . . it hurts," he said.

"More than that should hurt, boy. Count yourself blessed," said someone at the entrance to the hall. We turned and, to our surprise, found Gabraanth, again in golden armor, though visibly weakened. Benjamin reached for his sword, but Gabraanth waved a hand dismissively. "Stay your blade, Godslave," he said. "I am not come for further battle."

"What are you come for, then, if not to smart? If you wish to avoid it, running, you had better start."

"Save your rhymes as well. I have but a few precious moments of my sanity remaining, and quarrelling with you, old foe, is not how I wish to spend it."

"Then speak," Faris barked, "and take your leave."

"In my mind, even now I feel His talons. You were right, Cidscum. The Lord Dragon has deceived me. God has cut Him off from seeing this world for too long. He has been trapped in a space between D and E, and can no longer bear it. As His Beauty no longer serves Him, the Beast has begun to crave . . . other eyes. Namely mine.

"I cannot bear Him, though. He kindles in me a hunger unlike any I have ever known. And anger. The Gods made us their curs, to fight in their wars, long before we slept here. I fled that war," he pointed to Shantotto, "as did you! We thought ourselves free, but in this dream they deprived us again of our freedom. I struck a deal with the Lord Dragon, offering Him my eyes in exchange for my freedom. Now, haha, now I see that I have sold Him my humanity for a freedom only He shall enjoy as well.

"Mark well these last words of a dog who never had the courage to bite his captors' hands, Cidscum and Godslaves. There is no hope for us. No hope for any of us. Remedi told me she thought a Savior would come to save us. Remedi was mad. So, soon, will I be. The Lord Dragon is our savior, and our destroyer. You cannot fight Him. If He dies, destruction wins. He is . . . life . . . itself. Do not waste your pity or sorrow or forgiveness on me. Only heed my warning: you cannot fight life and win any more than you can fight death and win. They are . . . too . . . mighty."

Orlandeau placed Marche in my lap, then rose to his feet. He approached Gabraanth who was slowly beginning to burn. When he neared him, he asked, "Is this all you have to say? This is your second chance at a last line, Noah. Have you nothing more to say?"

Gabraanth groaned as Shinryu's force slowly overcame his personality. With the last of his might he managed to whimper, "I don't want to go." After that, he lurched over momentarily, before his body was lifted from the ground, as if by an invisible hand. From within it came a voice, which said, _**YOU ARE FORTUNATE THIS DAY, CHILDREN OF THE HIGHEST. THIS VESSEL HAS TAKEN GRIEVOUS WOUNDS, AND CANNOT FIGHT. IF I TRIED TO USE MY MIGHT TO SLAY YOU WITH IT, I MIGHT RISK BREAKING IT.**_

"What will you do with him?" Orlandeau asked.

_**HE HAS FAILED TO PREVENT YOU FROM REACHING MARCHER'S POINT. YOU HAVE GONE SO FAR AS TO KILL YOUNG MARCHE, WHO I STROVE TO PROTECT. NOW I WILL ONLY OBSERVE. I MUST REPAIR THIS VESSEL BEFORE CONFRONTING MY OTHER.**_

"Kill Marche? We have freed him from his prison!"

_**PRISON? NO. MARCHE WAS KEPT SAFE WITHIN THAT CRYSTAL. SOMETHING SENT THE GODS TO DESTROY THE BOY FOR CALLING THIS WORLD A DREAM. NEITHER I NOR THE HIGHEST COULD TURN THEM ASIDE FROM THIS. I HID HIM HERE TO PROTECT HIM.**_

"Then we will protect him!"

_**HOW? WHATEVER MOVED THE GODS SO WILL NOT STOP TILL HE HAS DIED. IT WILL LIKELY KILL HIM THE MOMENT I AM GONE.**_

"Then shouldn't you stay here?"

_** AND DIE MYSELF? I DARE NOT. THE MOUTH IS A TREACHEROUS PLACE. I HID HIM HERE BECAUSE NO GOD WOULD DARE ENTER HERE. I WILL NOT LINGER HERE, AND YOU WOULD BE WISE TO DO THE SAME. WHATEVER IS BEHIND THIS IS COMING, AND, MOREOVER, SOMETHING ELSE WAITS BELOW.**_

"Why not stay and see who is behind, rather than run show yours to our kind?"

_**AMUSING, LITTLE TARU. BUT I HAVE NO INTEREST IN KNOWING WHO HAS TRAPPED ME HERE, YET. THERE IS A MORE PRESSING ISSUE FOR ME TO SOLVE, FIRST.**_

"And what's that?" I asked. "You're going to abandon this boy to die, you've stolen a man's body, and you speak in cryptic messages! Who do you think you are?"

_**WHO AM I? I AM-**_

I cannot write what His response was. There are no sounds to describe it, partially because his description was not entirely aural. There were images of things I cannot name because we haven't even the concept of the colors they were. There were flavors projected which I have never tasted. When I asked Shinryu who He was, I never expected Him to answer so _honestly._

_**DO YOU SEE? YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND ME, SO I CANNOT BE BOTHERED TO EXPLAIN MYSELF TO YOU. FAREWELL. I DOUBT I WILL EVER SEE YOU AGAIN.**_

With these remarks, Shinryu departed, carrying Gabraanth's body like a doll in His invisible hands. We did nothing to stop Him, in part because we were afraid, but also because we wished to tend to Marche.

"I'm scared." He whispered.

"Don't be," I cooed, "I am here. You will be fine."

Marche's hand reached upward, groping toward my face. As it passed my breasts and his thumb found my nose, I realized he was blind. His hand was trembling as he spoke. "You must be beautiful," he said, then, "If you die in a dream, do you die in real life?"

"You're not going to die here. We'll keep you safe. The strongest swordsman in Heaven is here, you'll be safe."

"Does he have a sword?"

"Of course he does."

"A real sword?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did he get the sword in this world, or the real one?"

"I-,"

Marche managed a frail laugh, then said, "It's a dream sword. It won't do any good. Not against what's coming."

"The boy is sick. We need to move him from here, and quick," Shantoto said. "There's a noise coming this way, I think it's wise that here we do not stay."

"Aye," Faris replied. "But it's coming from above us. Near the entrance no doubt. Where do we go then?"

"Only one other way to go," Benjamin said with a shrug. "And that's down."

"Of course it would be," Orlandeau stated, stepping back over to Marche and I. He knelt down beside him, then looked me in the eyes and said, "I'll carry him from here." I nodded my assent, and Orlandeau reached out for him.

The Saint lifted him with surprising ease. The boy seemed small and frail in his arms, but Cid's voice was nothing if not tender.

"Tell us, friend, how you found your way here."

"I . . . don't remember."

"What do you recall, my friend?"

"I remember the real world. The world where we were free. I remember my family, and my friends, my house and the little town of St. Ivalice in the greater Ivalice countryside. I remember what it is to taste, and smell, and see."

"I can do all of those things, though," Benjamin put in.

"You dream of tasting, of smelling, of seeing and touching, but dreams, however real, are not as good as the real thing. This place is a cheap imitation. Well, maybe not CHEAP, but it pales to what lies above us."

"Above us?" Orlandeau asked. "What is above Heaven?"

"Home," was all he said. It was all he needed to. Even the others, who did not yet know what I knew could feel the weight of that statement. Home. Heaven wasn't home. It hadn't been home for a long time. We all felt it, that the Heavens were fraying at the seams, that things in the corners of our eyes weren't right. Marche was just the first to lay a finger on why.

Home was different. Home must be different. Maybe I won't be with the one I love there. In fact, I'm almost certain now that I never will be with him. That no matter the case, a great barrier will always divide us. But I will give him back his home. He will live for us both, and I will die for us both.

You might think that I am the most apt of all to receive Chaos' offer. After all, who, outside of me and my associate would ever be more likely to jump at the chance to have everything we ever wanted? But we reject that offer, in favor of something better. In favor of a world without war. A world where feet no longer trample others carelessly beneath. A world without flames consuming lives. A world full of flowers.

We walked down the back of The Mouth and found a passage which descended for what seemed to be an eternity. Shantotto lit a flame and we walked by its light into the depths, hoping to find another way out, but not entirely certain what we would do afterward.

Benjamin, I noted, had found two of the dockets we had originally come here for. He clutched them to his chest like a frightened mother holding her child. My opinion softened, though, when I considered that Orlandeau did not look so different. We were all scared, I guess. Something was chasing us, and none of us could deny the strange pulsing noise coming from below.

Just then Marche began to scream. His veins bulged and his agony was apparent. I tried to do something, cast every spell I could think of in the few short minutes of confusion available, but it didn't seem to help him at all. Benjamin and Faris were shouting, and Cid was trying to hold the boy, but he just kept thrashing and screaming.

"I'M WAKING UP!" He shrieked. A second later his entire body exploded in a thousand shards, as if he were made from glass.

Orlandeau turned around, as if to confront who or whatever had attacked Marche, and shouted, "SHOW YOURSELF! You murderous fiend! Whoever you are, Angel or Demon, I will go no further down this road until you have shown yourself and faced us openly! Coward! Show yourself!"

The voice of demons and angels is understandable. It can be loud or quiet. To the average mortal it can seem to shake the ground or gnaw at the edges of your sanity. The voice of Gods is like thunder in your head, or an earthquake in your soul. It shakes you, not the ground. Shinryu's voice was like a thousand Gods shouting at once. His name had been beyond description. The answer to Cid's challenge was more like an entire sentence in the language of Shinryu's name.

It's a miracle we weren't driven insane by the experience, really. We collapsed together to the floor, incapable of looking directly at the source of the response. The intent of the responder, though, was obvious, even before I knew Her personally. It was a taunt. She was taunting us, daring us to look at Her. It was a dangerous, egotistical and highly foolish move on Her part that would have been disastrous, had not all eyes been turned toward Shinryu, Cid Lufaine, Chaos or Cosmos at that time.

Then the taunting ended, and we were left alone in the darkness for a terrible instant. A feeling of great smallness engulfed us, and I found myself doubting the worth of anything and everything. At that point I thought I saw Alfador walk by, and when he had gone, I found myself feeling stronger.

It seems we all did, as we rose to our feet one after another. A strength came over us I cannot describe. A feeling of encouragement we did not need to voice to know we shared. You could see it in the eyes of any other person there. It wasn't a power that made us think we could do all, but it was like a hug, telling us we could keep going.

So we descended further, even as something in the dark tried to claw at us. It came faster and faster as it licked at our heels, but we pressed on. We could feel its—no, Her, anger as we ran. Just as it seemed bound to overtake us, we came upon a large, open space. A lit field that seemed to extend forever.

No more than fifty yards from us was a strange monster. It appeared to be some manner of crustacean, but jutting up from its spines was the body of a woman. She was beautiful, but melancholy. Her naked flesh was fused to the monster's spikes, but her long hair flapped in an unseen and unfelt wind. It was blonde, though the tips were a faded purple, as if it had been dyed once.

"Welcome," she said, suddenly bursting into reality some ten yards away. "I worried you wouldn't make it."

"What. The. Hell." Benjamin stated flatly.

"Who are you?" Orlandeau called. "Friend? Or foe?"

"Must it be one or the other? Love or hate?"

"Today? Yes, it must."

"I reject these concepts. Love and hate. And time. None apply here."

"Mighty words," Faris spat, "from one without legs."

"I believe I have six to your eyes, have I not? Or am I we? No, not yet."

"If you don't mind," Shantotto said, "The way out is what we're trying to find."

"I reject the concepts of in and out. There are no such things here."

"What are you talking about?" Benjamin asked. "We just came IN here!"

"How?" The woman returned. We turned to see the tunnel we had just come through, only to learn it was not there.

"What is this place?" Orlandeau inquired.

"This is the Darkness Beyond Time. You are familiar with . . . The Void, I believe you call it? This is where The Void goes to die. It is also where your 'Gods' have sent their failed weapons."

"What would the Gods need weapons for?"

"Every one I have met here has looked for a singular foe: The Dragon. They have all maintained that this Dragon was what they were to destroy. But they lost that honor to something called the Memory Eater. I found this name curious."

"I assume you'll be telling us why?"

"I am the Dream Eater. I am the Time Devourer. I am the Mouth. I am She who even The Void cannot escape."

"So you're another one of these monsters?"

"No, she can't be. She speaks of the monsters as separate from herself."

"Correct. I am not one of their weapons. I am Kidd."

"There's that word again!" Faris snorted. "What does Kid even mean?"

"It is the name I have given myself. It is the word for women like me."

"Women who are fused to horrible crab-monsters?" Benjamin quipped.

"No. My name is Schala Zeal. I am the Princess of the Kingdom of Zeal. A nation which existed in a bygone age of a world which rested in a sphere separate from this one. Kidd is the name I have given to women such as myself. Women who must choose between the world and the men they love. Kidd is the name of all women who ever dared to love a Son of Cid."

"There are Cids where you come from?" Orlandeau asked.

"What is a Cid? My answer depends on yours. Does Cid mean God, Inventor, Wiseman, Father, or King? In the spheres I have found, Cid has meant one of these things or another. At times they have a word for Cid. Cid is, in essence, nothing more than that: a word. A word which describes the things we have mentioned. And these things describe men from my own world."

"And you loved the son of one such man?" I asked.

"What is love to you? How could a woman so small possibly comprehend my suffering? Your hands are stained already. You speak of love, but love is filth without faith, and your loyalty is less than that of They you call Gods.

"I devour Time. When Time dies, I eat it. Every action causes a new timeline. And these die when we do not choose them. Let me tell you of one such timeline I ingested; its taste was sweeter than any I remember when I was Schala, and more bitter than any I have since swallowed up. It was the goad and the comfort which lead me to accept my fate.

"I once met a remarkable man. His name I will not bother to share. He had fiery red hair and bright, shining eyes. He was determined, strong, silent. I was born the daughter of the most dominant Queen in the history of my land. When my father died, she ruled the entire world unquestioned. No man ever challenged her; except him. He didn't so much as blink before her.

"Her actions caused his death. They caused my present state as well. That was the end of our time. For ages in the dark I hated him. His friends came and saved him, sending back Time's flow with the power of a being whose presence I have come here in search of. I lingered in hungering jealousy for ages. Until this timeline came before me.

"It didn't come alone, you see. It came one after another. In the first, he succeeded and stopped my mother and the monster to whom I am now wed. He saved me, and we lived a long and happy life together, he and I. I wept as I ate the memories of our children. I wept further when the next timeline came. In it, no one saved him, and he descended into the darkness with me. I wasn't alone, and I felt safe.

"From there came the concept of Kid. My mother's curse forced me to choose: Would I selfishly take the man I loved, and doom the world, or save it at my expense? Would I choose this Son of Cid, or the whole of Time itself?"

"Which did you choose?"

"I chose the world, of course. But I have come here because I feel it, that power which turned back Time to allow him freedom. With that power, I can have him, and we can be free of this suffering. I must find this force."

"But won't that undermine your sacrifice?"

The Eater of Dreams sighed, then pulled her crustacean self within the confines of her dress, descending down to our level, and to the form and stature of a woman. She approached me slowly, then, with a speed and force I had not, but should have expected, she slapped me in the face.

"Who are you to speak to me of sacrifices? Your heart is naked before me, and I see that you have made none. You cling to one man while selfishly claiming another. And in the dark of the night yet you took a woman to your bed. You know NOTHING of sacrifice. All your life you have been given."

"I DIED for my world. You did that in a timeline no one recalls!"

"I died in every timeline for every moment of a thousand eternities."

"You weep because the man you love is not yours. From your tale, it sounds more like he NEVER was."

"Your death was not a sacrifice, but a cowardly escape. You could not choose between one or the other, so you fled to death's embrace. You know that spell never required your death!"

"Liar! If we weren't all dead, I'd kill you!"

"Death is inconsequential. I will kill you again."

"With what power?"

"I have no need for power to kill you. I haven't even the need to kill you. You are beneath me. Does a man worry about the life of a worm? So are you to me."

"And yet you weep because of your great tragedy? How are you any less a monster than they who shunted you off to your fate, if you would ignore the suffering of others for your own selfish purpose?"

"You don't know what you speak of. This is a chance to change fate. I can feel it. I can hear it. He is calling. The God who can change all of it and take away all suffering. Salvation calls me. My heart's desire beckons. What would you do in my place?"

"What you have already done! Are you Kidd? Are you the woman who sacrificed her love for her world? Then own up to this order you have named. Are you she who loved the Son of Cid? Then be worthy of His love! Pay the great price in exchange for the great gain."

"And why should I? What did the world ever do, that I should value it above myself? I used to think it mattered, but Eternity is a long time. I want what I want now. The world had its turn."

"And what if everyone thought that way? Not everyone can have what they want!"

"No. You're wrong. This God offers exactly that. I can hear His call. My God will save us all."

"What of the man you loved? Would he still love you if he knew you had burned the world for him?"

The Eater of Dreams paused, clearly not knowing what to say. She looked at me—no, looked inside me. She was checking for an excuse to invalidate my comment. I beat her to the punch.

"I would do it again. I love him, and I want him, and I am selfish and impure and corrupt, and I know that I am wrong, but I would die again for that world of his. I would burn _myself_ down, not the world he'd dedicated his life to saving."

"And you, Cid?" The Eater of Dreams asked, turning toward Orlandeau. "You who are Cid. Would the woman who loved your son do the same? I dare say she would not. Your wife would have forbidden their love, I don't doubt it. Such is the way of the wives of Cids."

"What does any of that matter?" Orlandeau asked. "The woman who loved my son is not you. Your destiny is your own to shape. A man I met once made a point of proving that to me."

"And you, old maid?" She turned on Shantotto, "You who never knew love. Do you judge me wrong, not knowing what I stand to spend eternity without?"

"Without love, what are we? Me, I'd just as soon sacrifice love for a conscience that is free."

"And you, foolish boy who thought to love the daughter of Cid?"

"Lady, now you're making things up! We were just friends!"

"And you, woman whose taint mocks me before it leaves her mouth?"

"Yeah? Well love's overrated anyway. Who needs it."

"And such as you should hope to dissuade me? A scummy pirate, a hapless halfwit, a meddler in evil, an old swordsman and a woman more conflicted than a broken mirror? My God calls me, and offers me salvation. What have you to offer in its stead?"

"I have what I gave up my love for!"

"AND WHAT IS THAT?" The Eater of Dreams shouted, energy coursing from her.

"The world. I have the world. All the love, and hopes, and dreams, and faith, and trust the world has to offer. That I offer up as the reason to sacrifice your love anew."

"I don't WANT to make that sacrifice again!"

"Then don't. You already made it. Choose the choice you already chose."

"It HURTS."

"I know," I whispered. "You might not think I do, but I do. Why do you think I clung so desperately to him, here? Because it lessened the pain. Deep down, though, I couldn't deny the truth; he'll never be mine. And this world? This one isn't the one I saved. This isn't the one he—we—fought to save. I'm going to get that world back for him."

"God can help you. He can help all of us."

"No. This God you seek can't help anyone. Think about it: If He could, why would He bother asking for our help? He could help Himself. But He can't. And if He can't do that, He can't help any of us."

"I don't believe you!"

"You must! The man you loved fought for the world. You traded your love for what he wanted. This God wants to invalidate that. Don't you see? He's your enemy, not your savior!"

"No, no, no! I can feel Him. He calls me. I was alone, with only my Beast for company, and He reached out to me. He came for me. Found me. Brought light to me when I was in darkness! Clothed me when naked! He is my friend, not my foe! He will give me what I love!"

"Love! What would you do for love!" I cried, desperate.

"I WOULD BURN DOWN EVERYTHING. I WOULD TEAR TIME IN TWAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. FOR LOVE, I WOULD-,"

"Is that all? Destroying everything sounds easy, coming from you! You must not have loved this man much at all."

"How dare you! Do you think I did not love him? I have come all this way, just to hold him again, just to have his red hair to run my fingers through!"

"Tearing something down is simple! Your love surely was greater than that."

"Name your challenge! I can prove my love to a woman as conflicted as you!"

"Tell me, Eater of Dreams, First of Kidds, Princess of Zeal, what would you do for love?"  
>"Anything! Name the task, and I shall do it to prove my love!"<p>

"Would you do anything for this man you love?"

"Anything!"

"Then turn away. Let him go. Keep sacred the sacrifice you once made for him. Honor love."

"If you ever loved, you would know why I cannot do this."

"I loved him, my Son of Cid. And I will do this, if this is what it takes to prove to you my love. I will let him go, if that is what it takes to keep you from making this mistake."

"Show me, Kidd, that you are willing to take my name upon yourself."

She extended her hand, and I grasped it in my own. "I covenant with you, to let go of the man I love, now and forever, if you will do the same."

"I covenant to let go of the man I love, if you uphold this agreement."

There was a blinding flash, and everything went white for what felt an eternity. When I came to, I could not see her anywhere. But her voice I could hear in my head, and as I did, it twisted my stomach in knots.

"But I have not covenanted," she said, "to stay away from the God who calls me."


	12. Chapter 12 Truth and Lies

_**THE MOUTH, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

The descent into the Mouth marked the beginning of our day. As we walked, we fell into small groups. At the front walked Orlandeau (called The Saint by Shantotto) and the good doctor herself. Behind the pair walked Faris, who would not look me in the eye, and, bringing up the rear, myself and Benjamin.

It was perhaps the first time I met him. That is to say, we interacted before, but this was the first time I ever took even a moment to really speak with him. Benjamin is something special, whether he realizes it or not. I don't mean special in the way that Omega or Chaos or even The Scholar are special, but special all the same. His was a simple, uncluttered mind, and in a way I hope it stayed thus, because it made him far freer than any of us.

Poor Benjamin! I wonder how he is, now? So many of us have made to use him for our own desires, and I can't help but wonder how he would act if he knew it. I have forced him to do far more than he would of himself, and though I claim it is in the name of the World Full of Flowers, I cannot help but feel guilt at the thought of this one kind soul we forced into service.

"Your name is Aerith, right?" He asked, still very shy.

"Yes. You're Benjamin?" I replied, at the time interested in nothing more than small talk with him. To be honest, I overlooked Benjamin back then. It wasn't until we met again on the Romantic Beach that I really became aware of him.

"Oh? Me! Ye-yes. I-I didn't know you, uh, knew my name. So you're here to just record our mission?"

"That's right. I've been sent to keep a record of this mission."

"That's weird. I thought the mission was supposed to be top-secret."

Despite all this, he was also a liability. So I quickly lied, "As is the record."

"Ah, okay then. So, um, what do you think we'll see down there?"

"Probably very little. I mean, we're just here to stop Remedi, right? Nothing that scary, I bet."

"Right. Right. Nothing that scary."

We walked a ways further down, passing the edge of the Mirrors and approaching what appeared to be a cave with what were apparently lips. I instantly regretted telling Benjamin that we wouldn't see anything scary down there. The entrance was frightening enough as it was, one could only imagine what part of Cid's subconscious mind had made it.

Cid motioned us to a halt at the foot of the hill. At first, I wasn't quite sure why. Then, after a moment, I saw him. A man, sitting on what appeared to be a tooth at the edge of The Mouth. His armor was blackened, like Golbez' but he was a smaller man. Across his lap was a long sword, and the horns of his helm pointed downward, looking like a dog in shame.

"Who goes there?" He called, his voice almost heroic.

"The Saint, on an errand for The Highest, come to catch Queen Remedi, whom we are told is hiding within."

"Tell The Highest He can come for Her Himself. No man passes to Marcher's Point."

"Stand down, Judge Gabraanth," Cid responded. "Or I will _cut_ you down. On whose authority do you defy The Highest messengers?"

"On the authority of One Higher than even The Highest."

"Hear the words which leave your mouth, boy! There are none higher than The Highest!"

"Fool of a Cid! I come in the name of the Lord Dragon! Your Gods cannot challenge Him."

"Shinryuu? No one has seen that Enemy of the State in thousands of years! If you have sided with him, you are the fool, not I!"

"I ought to let you pass me, old man, so that you can learn who the fools here really are. But orders are orders, and I have no desire to defy the Lord Dragon's wishes."

"Draw your sword then, cur. I have no more time to bandy words with thee."

"Gladly, old man." Gabraanth lifted his blades and, as he did, a tuft of pink hair burst from the back of his black helmet. As it grew, his armor turned a golden color, and his cape a pale blue.

"A change of color does not frighten me!" Orlandeau said, charging forward. As he did, Gabraanth's blade cut his clean in two, and the flat of his other sent him flying.

"Miserable man!" He crowed, "You are as a mote before me now! This is no mere change of color! This is the power of the Lord Dragon Himself!"

Cid got to his feet, then called another sword from his inventory. He advanced more carefully this time, moving slowly and thinking each step through. Ultimately, Gabraanth lost patience, and sent Tidal Waves at him. Orlandeau was thrown back again, and Gabraanth's laughter grew.

"Forget a Coral Ring, did you? Pathetic! None shall look on Marcher's Point and live, you old fool! That is my mission! To keep all who would dare enter and know the truth of this world OUT."

"You damned, benighted, besotted fool! What reason could you have to keep us from going in there and stopping Remedi? Chaos is on the move, boy! Even now the depths of Hell are ablaze with talk of a Savior come to "liberate" them! Stand aside and let us past!"

"Back to begging and bandying words, are we? Who'd ever thought I'd see the day where Cid Orlandeau was bested in a sword fight! Pathetic!"

"Arrogance becomes you, young man. Like yourself, it is bloated and baseless."

Gabraanth rushed forward to kick Orlandeau in the chest, but, to his surprise, found that the old Cid had fight left in him still. Orlandeau grasped the incoming foot and twisted it. A loud _crack!_ Was followed by Gabraanth falling to the ground in agony. He lashed out at Orlandeau, who caught the blade and, with another _crack_ broke the top half off for his own usage.

He rose to his feet and said, "You continue to cut my own swords in twain, let us see if your own cannot fight itself, then!" He delivered a swift kick to Gabraanth, propelling him into the air, then, punching the Dragon's Judge in the face, sent him flying backward.

Gabraanth stopped himself midflight, then gently settled back onto the ground. "Is this your second wind, old man? Prepare yourself, then, for you shall know soon what real pain is!" He flew forward and their swords met with sparks. There was a sound of metal ringing against metal, and a hurried flurry of blows, one from the other. After a moment, Orlandeau stepped back and reached for his cloak.

"You fight well, even if it is with borrowed strength," he admitted with a smile, "but I know something you do not know!"

"And what is that? That you are not left handed?"

"No. That I am not so feeble that I need armor to protect me." With that he unfastened his cloak, causing it to fall to the ground. He jabbed his sword into the dirt for a moment, then removed his armor, which rumbled as it touched the earth. "In my youth I fought without armor whenever I needed to. Elmdore, seeing the speed with which I moved, coined the name "Thunder God Cid." Unfortunately for you, my boy, I have only grown stronger with my age."

"Which means what, pray tell?"

"As you young people are fond of saying? Prepare to have your ass royally kicked."

"Ha! I'd like to see you—erk."

Gabraanth had not even managed to finish speaking before Orlandeau had impaled him on his own sword. Cid wrenched his helmet off and I caught a glimpse of blood dripping from his mouth before Orlandeau head-butted him off the sword.

"Striking me when I'm talking? Dishonorable."

"It would be a greater dishonor to let you live on as Shinryu's dog."

"I have always been a dog. At least this time I was a big one."

"You're right. This entire affair has been dishonorable. Good-bye, Noah."

"Fuck off, Cid-scum."

After a moment, Gabraanth's armor blackened again, and then faded from view. Cid turned to us and motioned toward The Mouth. We approached as he re-equipped himself with his armor. His expression was grim, I saw. He had not enjoyed striking down Gabraanth, it seemed.

The entire affair confused us at the time. Orlandeau would not explain who Shinryu was, or why and how He would oppose The Highest. I, knowing more than the others, wondered whether or not Shinryu was the one Alfador had mentioned. Now, knowing what I know, I confess a different manner of confusion: How did Gabraanth come into contact with Shinryu? And is there truly enmity between The Great Will and the Lord Dragon? And are these our enemies or not? True, they imprisoned and enslaved the warriors of the Endless Cycle, but they also have endeavored for ages to destroy Omega, who would have consumed us otherwise.

Orlandeau pushed past us toward The Mouth, passing the teeth moments later. We hurried to keep up. He set a brisk pace, but it was not one we had to keep for very long. Not more than ten minutes after we had started, Orlandeau stopped. When we caught up to him, we saw why.

Suspended in the middle of the room, trapped in a crystal, with flesh-like chains running through the middle, was what appeared to be the body of a young man. He seemed to float in a strange liquid that caused his blonde hair to float around in a shaggy mess. There was a plaque on the crystal, but it was too high up to read.

"By the Gods . . . !" Orlandeau whispered.

"Is that a kid?" Faris asked.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Benjamin groaned.

"Now is not the time for us to worry about a boy trapped in slime," Shantotto hissed.

We all looked at her, and saw her pointing to the far end of the hall. There stood a woman in a long black dress, scythe in hand. Her hair was red like fire, and burned down her back, almost to her waist.

"Admiring the furniture, are we?" She sneered, "I had no idea you had such an eye for décor, Saint."

"Remedi!" Orlandeau bellowed, "What is the meaning of this! Who is that young man! Release him at once!"

"Oh, my dear, old Cid. Do you really think _little ol' me_ put the boy in the bucket up there? No, no, no. Look around you! I chose this place for us to have a little chat, and so that you could see a few special things. Namely that up there. Do you know what this place is called?"

"No, but I know it will be your grave should you resist arrest."

"This is Marcher's Point. A little pun the Gods came up with to disguise the fact that this is, in fact, not _Marcher's_ but _Marche's_."

"Wh-wh-WHAT? That child up there is . . . is . . . ?"

"Marche Radiuju, Heretic. The Gods put Marche in there for a reason even THEY don't comprehend fully. Isn't it beautiful? Knowing that the Gods are more monstrous than you ever had imagined, Saint? But don't you worry. A Savior is coming, who will free us from the Gods."

"What did Marche do? Why would they imprison him like this?" I asked, moved by a sudden curiosity.

"They say he went mad," Orlandeau said, sinking to his knees. "He said this was all a dream."

"And for that they imprisoned him here, in The Mouth. But don't worry. When The Hero comes, Marche will be freed."

"What nonsense of Heroes is this? You speak as though something in Heaven were amiss!"

"Isn't it? When you go below here, you will know as I do, that this is true."

"That's pretty vague, lady," Benjamin said, "Care to elaborate?"

"No," Remedi said, shrugging, "I don't. Suffice it to say that Marche was right." The others breathed in sharply at her words. I did my best not to stand out, but it was not as easy being surprised about a thing I had already been informed of. Remedi laughed to see their shock, though, and paid no heed to me. "Haven't you noticed it? How our perfect world has slowly begun to unravel? Sin and corruption entered Heaven. And somewhere along the way it just began to make sense. Those of us who could oppose, who might make the discovery that all of this is a lie, we were pacified in whatever way possible. Undoubtedly you will all be made enemies of the State for listening to what I have said.

"Heaven is a lie we are all being told, to keep us content and satisfied, so that we do not realize that things are amiss and rise up against Her. She has played well the game of our hearts, and kept us all, including the Lord Dragon and the Great Will, occupied in this place. I assume She is desperately searching for a way to save Her family, and I suppose I could not blame Her for that. I share that pain, and that is why I oppose Her. Her plan has trapped me in a fake world, where I cannot know if my family is real or not. I will stop at nothing to have my son back."

"What you're saying makes no sense, Remedi!" Faris called, "Who could possibly have the power to challenge the High Cid?"

"The High Cid? Ha! Before you reached the lips of this place, you did not even know who The Lord Dragon was, now you dare assume there can be none greater than this Cid of yours? She does not even need to BE greater. A bee might sting a bear, and a frog poison the snake. She has put them in the dream, and Her power guided the Gods to imprison Marche, lest he wake Cid from that dream. It was only a matter of time before she replaced me with Li Grim, or went after the children of Zanarkand. I feel Her power all around me, tying me to the Dream-Fiend already. Soon I will be but a shadow of the woman I was. But I will fight to the last moment to save my son!"

"What do you mean, Remedi? Your son is fine! Return to him, and end his plaintiff whine!"

"THAT IS NOT MY SON!" Remedi shrieked. "If we're all dead, how are our ages different? How can Mewt be a child and Orlandeau an old man if both are meant to be immortal souls? This is a dream world! Marche was right! This place isn't real! It's something SHE made, to keep us all distracted! But not me! I will die fighting Her for my son!"

"Who? Who do you fight?"

"I fight the woman who is like me. Yet She became a monster of Her own choosing. I have been shunted to the role of Kidd. I am the woman who loves the son of Cid, and for that alone She would destroy me."

"What does that even MEAN?" Benjamin demanded.

"Enough of this! I did not steal from the Savior of all mankind to drag you here for pleasant conversation! Now we fight! I will kill you all, and when I am done, I will kill Her as well!" Remedi lunged forward, her body seeming to turn to water as she did. Her scythe hovered above Orlandeau a moment, and when it was apparent he would not intervene on his part, Benjamin dashed forward, deflecting her blow with his blade. She slapped him away, only to be blasted by Shantotto.

"Get up, Orlandeau!" Faris called, "We can't do this without you!"

"See, Saint? See how you all cling to power? You all lust for it! This is how the Gods dominate your tiny minds! They make you think they are stronger than you, and that their might cannot be challenged, and their justice cannot be overturned! You believe it takes one like unto the Gods to fight them! This is how all Heaven and Hell will crack and crumble and fall apart! The irony is, that is how Heaven and Hell were built in the first place!"

Remedi's skin burst the rest of the way, leaving only the strange water-flan woman in her place. Her arms became scythes, and she charged at him again. This time, Faris intervened, defending The Saint and taking the blow as punishment. Shantotto rushed to throw up a barrier, but I, still busy healing Benjamin, could do nothing for Faris. It pained me to see her hurt, and I wanted to rush to her side, but I couldn't abandon the boy.

"In the beginning She created the Heavens and Hell and placed our sleeping souls within them. And now, in the End of Times, it is not Gods nor Demons who will undo all She has created! It is Cids! Cids! CIIIIIIIIIIDS! I am torn in half. I am the wife of a Cid, and at once the woman who loved the Son of Cid. Do you know why I have stolen these dockets? To keep them from Cid Previa! And yet I don't know, do I hate the man, or do I love him as the Savior, not that I want, nor that I deserve, but that I need? In Hell they speak of another Savior, of a man who walks to those in the pits and promises them that God is coming, and that God's Son will give them all they have ever hoped for. Do I trust this man, or should I hate and scorn him for serving a God?

"Don't you SEE, Saint? You Cids create us! You cause people like She and I to be! You are the fathers of all Kidds, and Mids, and the forsaken wives, and the fiery death that comes from the heavens on the wings of your airships, and on and on and on! Oh, what I would do to undo all Cids! You are the root of all our troubles! You complicate EVERYTHING! Look up at him, Saint, look up and behold! Marche is suspended because of YOU. You Cids bring destiny and fate and great changes into our lives! Your sons promise us happiness and all the desires of our hearts, and your wives prevent us from ever having them! This is what it means to be a Kidd! To be a woman who must forever know that the Son of Cid and all His blessings are beyond our reach, because The Mother forbids it, and worse, because if we could ever have the desires of our hearts, it would be the end of all things!

"I wish there were no Cids! There would be no more Sarahs, or Biggses or Wedges or ANYTHING, and at last we would be free to choose our own paths! We have lived in fear of Gods and Demons in this place, and I know now the truth: the real Gods and Demons are Cids, and always have been! So long as there is a Cid walking the earth, there will be toil, and strife and suffering! If I destroy all Cids, I destroy their wives and sons as well. It will cost me myself, my husband, and my family, but if I can deny Her those things as She has denied me, I can rest peacefully in The Void."

"She's mad!" Benjamin hissed, getting to his feet. "Orlandeau. Stop listening and get up and FIGHT HER! If you don't, I'll, I'll . . ."

"I'll let her cut you down." Faris said. "You're useless to us if this is all it takes to stop you. You just defeated a servant of The Lord Dragon, Saint. Can you not now stop one mad woman?"

Remedi's watery essence filled the room, and her scythes began to rise up around her. Despite the brave words Faris was saying, and how encouraged I felt to see her on her feet again, I think she was understating how strong Remedi was becoming. If strong is the right word. After all, isn't the point that danger doesn't imply strength?

"What do you say, then, _Cid_olfas Orlandeau, the Thunder _God_? Rise up, and cut me down. You are a Cid, and the power of Life and Death is in your hands. I'm just a miserable little woman who dared to love your son. Surely you have a son, don't you Orlandeau? What was his name again? Oh, I think I know."

"Don't." Orlandeau whispered.

"Don't involve him? It's too late, Cid. You've already realized that. You're just a shadow of Cidian Lief. Cid Lufaine. You're just a cheap imitation of the man who started all of this. Your wife died an unfortunate, tragic death, didn't she? Most married Cids face this same fate, you'll find. And your son, there was a woman who loved him, wasn't there? And the worst part of all of this? You had no biological children. Your son isn't real. He's _artificial._ Don't you see? You're Cid Lufaine, your wife is Her, this girl is the Kidd, and little Olan is Chaos. It's the same everywhere, Cid. Ask the Scholar. Ask the Liar. Ask the Engineer. Ask the Chronicler. Ask any Cid you like. It goes on and on. Maybe not every Cid will tell you, but you can believe that most of them have the same damn story."

"No. Stop." He pleaded, his voice faint and weak. "Take these things from my mind."

"What things? I'm showing you the truth. The dream is fainter here in the Mouth, Cid. That is why I brought you here. All of you will see, before you leave, the truth of this place. And that truth will crack Heaven wide open. It's my master stroke! She cannot stop it, and soon Heaven will fall apart because of it! Isn't it brilliant? All I had to do was tell the truth, and the entirety of this world began to unspin itself!"

"That's ENOUGH!" Orlandeau said, at last getting to his feet. "You have descended into madness, driven by a despair I cannot name, Remedi! All this talk of Cids, and Kidds, and Mids, I know not what you say when you say it-,"

"You hope to fool them into believing you, and save them from the wrath of the Gods? A noble, if empty gesture, old man-,"

"But I will not stand here and listen any longer! I have my orders, and I will stay true and faithful to the God who gave me them! I will free Marche, and see justice is done! I cannot save you, Remedi, and for that I am sorry, but I can at least put an end to your misery."

"You can try."

Orlandeau ran forward, into the heart of the scythes, and for a moment we lost sight of him. Then, with a burst of light, he erupted somewhere near the base of Remedi's growing trunk. She shrieked in agony, and her scythes closed in on him again. Once more The Saint emerged, and Remedi—or Li Grim's—howl could be heard through all the inside of The Mouth.

She laughed for a second, then pulled all her mass down atop him, forming a compact blue sphere with Cid trapped somewhere within. Shantotto fired spells, and Benjamin and Faris attacked, but to no avail. The orb simply sat there for ten, then twenty minutes.

We despaired of ever opening it, believing she had taken Cid out in a suicide attack that had consumed them both. When we were about to give up, the orb shook terribly. Before any of us could react, it popped like a bubble, and blue bits of Remedi-goo went everywhere. When I finally cleared my eyes, I saw him standing there, Remedi in his arms like a sleeping child or a bride carried over the threshold.

No one spoke. No one needed to. It was obvious she was dead, and would fade away soon. And as her feet began to grow lighter, I wondered how much the others had learned here. Shantotto likely had taken everything I told her and pieced the rest together, and I didn't doubt that Orlandeau understood the point of Remedi's speech, perhaps even better than I, but I still don't know how much Benjamin gleaned that day. As for Faris? I am sorry to say that it would later be revealed that she either learned nothing, or chose to completely ignore it.

"Shantotto," Orlandeau said when Remedi's stomach began to fade, "Lift me up there. I'm going to let Marche down."


	13. Chapter 13 Revelations and Deception

_**PLAINS OF TRIUMPH, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**DURING THE SIEGE OF COSMOS' PALACE.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

Night had fallen again, and we were now safely on our way back to civilization. We had set up camp in a place known as the plains of triumph, not more than a day's walk from Cosmos' Palace of Order. We were all tired, and no one had spoken during the day. Benjamin was now asleep. I sat with the others around the fire and explained to them what they had longed to know, and what had been conveyed to me from my associate's end. An angel had arrived earlier that night telling us that Chaos had laid siege to Cosmos' castle, and that Orlandeau had been summoned by the Choir of Elohim to lend aid to the castle. This was the night our fellowship would break, and so this conversation would be the last we would have before, well, everything.

"And that's all there is to tell," I said, finishing my explanation about the nature of our world. I didn't know much then, after all. The world was a dream, and someone, likely the being we had met prior to our encounter with the Dream Eater was the one holding us prisoner here.

"We cannot let this stand!" Orlandeau said, balling his fist into the palm of his other hand. "I won't let it!" He had taken Marche's "death" rather harshly, as well as the encounter with Gabraanth.

"This is a hard thing to take in," Faris said. "Everything that has happened here is a dream?"

"It's not so hard when you think about it," Shantotto dissented, "Why, the Gods practically tout it!"

"I can't just accept that the past, what, three, four thousand years have been a dream!" Faris exclaimed, stirring Benjamin somewhat in his sleep.

"But it explains a lot, don't you think? What sort of afterlife is this, that we can fight and kill each other in?"

"A damn better life than the one we had before, and one we're lucky to have now."

"That's just it, though: it's all too good." Orlandeau said. "And it doesn't make a lick of sense."

"Which is it!" Faris demanded, "Is it too good to be true, or too bad to be Heaven?"

"Both," I answered. "It's as if we're being placated. Everything we want is given us, including battle. Everything is made to distract us."

"I don't have everything _I_ want."

"Neither do I."

"There is a reason for that, you know," purred a voice beyond the fire's light. We turned our heads to see who spoke, expecting a man, and were surprised to instead find a cat. Alfador, his purple coat shimmering in the flamelight, smiled as he spoke. "God stirs in His slumber, and as He draws nearer to waking, it sends little fractures across the painting She put in place."

"And why should I believe you?"

"Why, Princess Tycoon, you should believe me because I am breaking some very serious rules being here. Rules I could not break if someone else had not broken them before me. Someone has interfered with your world and introduced a forbidden element. I am here to counteract that element."

"And how do you propose to do that, kitty?"

"Hold on to your hat, little girl, for I am about to blow your mind." Alfador hopped up onto Benjamin's sleeping body and curled himself up before continuing. "The world you live in is a pocket universe we will designate "World D." For convenience's sake, all of you hail from a universe we will label "World A," as it is the point of your origin, and the origin of all this mess. This is the World you remember as your Life. Some of you are still alive there, while others have been long dead. A long time ago, that World was the home of a man called Cid.

"Cid was a brilliant man. Young, full of life and dreams, Cid married a woman named Mio. They were so happy together, even after learning that Mio would never bear him any children. Their homeland, Lufenia, was at war with another nation. Under Cid's auspice, Lufenia became the center of the greatest technological civilization his world would ever know. Magitek, a floating Mana Fortress, Crystal Amplifiers, War Machines, the list goes on. His foes were likely to be crushed, until their own great mind, Matoya, made contact with something no one was ever supposed to find.

"Matoya summoned this spirit, this force called Omega and enshrined it in a mechanical body. Cid, in retaliation, created his masterwork. An artificial lifeform they called "Garland" for he would bring them victory. And so, in irony, the summoners went to war with a machine, and the machinists with a living, albeit eldritch being.

"I trust you understand the significance of this. Omega is a being you all have heard of. Some of you encountered it before. Garland thrashed Omega. Defeated Omega. Destroyed it. Broke it over his knee. He was forever after known as Chaos. But the battle was a horrific one, and it taxed his soul. Meanwhile, it incensed the Lufaine to desire not merely victory over their enemies, but the world. So Garland, who defeated with ease a foe that the Lord Dragon has pursued His entire existence, was intended to conquer this world. He withdrew, though, and the state crafted a woman in the likeness of his mother in an attempt to persuade him.

"Eventually, Cid found his son, and escaped, he, his wife, their son, and this woman. But tragedy struck, as his wife was shot down. The trauma caused Chaos to tear open a hole in the fabric of reality and pull he, his father, and the copy into another world. This world, a shadow of the first, we will call "World B." There, he met another calling himself Garland, and eventually The Lord Dragon.

"Cid made a deal with this Lord Dragon to return home. A terrible deal. A deal which many have imitated over the years, but none approach in level of shame. Cid gave his body to the Lord Dragon, and in exchange, He became Shinryu's equal. The two of them was not enough, though. To get home, Chaos' powers alone would suffice. But Chaos was not strong enough, so Shinryu proposed a game to make him stronger.

" 'Let him level up a bit, first. Let him do some grinding. Building up,' Shinryu said. And Cid consented, selling His Beloved Son to the Lord Dragon. The copy—Cosmos—was made to be Chaos' enemy. What was Cid's motive for banishing Her, for dooming Her to battle? Could He not stand to look upon the woman who had tried to turn His son into a weapon, or could He not face the memory of His wife?

"Whatever the case, a war was started, and I'm sure you've heard and seen that happening before. Chaos and Cosmos' eternal battle. Yes, it began not here, and not in a world of eternal crystal, but in a world above this one. What do I mean above? Allow me to explain.

"Shinryu stored Cid's body in the shadow of Mt. Gulg, in a cavern far beneath it. Periodically they would meet there, to discuss the state of the war. One day they returned to the cavern to find a most troubling sight. The Cavern had expanded massively, as if someone else had dug it out. This is when everything changed.

"Cid had tired of the war. His conscience had freed itself from the mountain of vengefulness that was His soul, and He had seen the plight of Cosmos' warriors. Cid realized that His sons and His daughter were soon to be lost to Him, and He realized Shinryu's motives. What would a dragon need with a man's body? You must have asked yourselves this by now."

Alfador paused, and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. His story you have undoubtedly heard before, in how many different iterations I cannot say. But the question loomed over us like a sword, given our recent encounter with Shinryu's own body-jacking. What DID He need with a human body?

Shinryu had called Cid His "other" vessel. It was clear He wanted revenge on Cid for something, but what? And why would He need Cid's body, when He had made it so clear before that He was above us?

"Tell me, have you ever seen a God that was a Hypello?" Alfador asked, breaking the silence.

"Well, no-,"

"A Taru, perhaps? Have you ever seen a Ronso or a Garif God? No. What form do Gods most often take?"

"Well there are many-,"

"No. There is one. Hume. Gods take the form of Humes. Bahamut, the Dragon King and Father of the Summoned takes on the form of a Man. Leviathan, Asura, Ramuh, Ifrit, Shiva, all take on the forms of Hume men and women. Diva, Minerva, Pulse, Faram, all Humes. Do you know why?"

"No, but I imagine we're about to," Faris said.

"Everything is connected. Omega did not begin as the horrible monster you all know and fear. It had the body of a hume once. Shinryu is obsessed with defeating Omega. His primary goal is this. Anything Omega has or once had Shinryu has desired. And Cid Lufaine was kind enough to offer up His body; a body which houses the Crystal of Absolute Virtue."

"Absolute Virtue? What is this?" Orlandeau asked, stroking his chin.

"Absolute Virtue is the infinite potential to act. It is the reason Cid Lufaine was such a genius, you could say. This Crystal is that which sustains life, and is the goal of Omega. It is the Crystal Kuja once nearly destroyed, whether he or any other is truly aware. Cid Lufaine was born with this Crystal in him, and within him, so to speak. A Crystal Bearer in a world which has never seen the likes. So you see: Cid's body is doubly important to Shinryu because it houses Absolute Virtue, the force by which one may freely rewrite reality. With that, Shinryu could defeat Omega once and for all.

"Cid opposed Shinryu in that cave. And in that battle He managed to subdue Shinryu. It taxed him too greatly, though, and He fell into a deep sleep as well. This cave is what we call World C. It was a room behind Cid's throne in the Temple of the Highest, but it soon will become His Throne room. Or is it already? Whatever the case, that room is the one in which the bodies of Cid Lufaine and Shinryu _had_ been resting."

"Had been?"

"What became of the wife of Cid Lufaine?"

"She died, didn't she?" Faris asked, "She was shot."

"If only things could ever be that simple. She lived long enough to implant her memories into the body of another. Mio became a parasite, living in the back of the minds of women long after the fall of Lufenia. She was last met by the Sage Lhukan, who interviewed her. She had come to know more of his prophecy concerning a Warrior of Light who would strike down the fiends terrorizing the world, and oppose a demon he named Chaos.

"Without going into too much detail, Mio eventually met Garland, who told her of the war Chaos and Cosmos were waging in World B. And that, my friends, is where the wheels all began to turn. Mio had amassed a great amount of power in the millennia since her death, and, learning of her husband's plight, she set out to help him.

"The warriors of Cosmos overcame Chaos in World B, and were returned to their homes as a reward. The moment they had all gone their separate ways, Mio cast a sleep spell. Nothing more complicated than what any Black Mage could cast. The difference is that Mio's spell targeted everyone in every world, living or dead.

"When all were asleep, Mio opened a path to World B and carried the bodies to World C, where she lay them at the feet of her husband. She was desperate for a way to save him, to speak to him, but he would not awake. So Mio used her power to create a world of dreams. This World D was made using Cid Lufaine as the focus, and the sleeping consciousnesses of all other living things as a support. Mio is the one who holds you all prisoner here, and Mio is the one who mocked you all in The Mouth. She sought to save her husband and their son at first, but her search, which spans the entirety of this reality's existence, has been fruitless, and the fruitlessness has driven her further into insanity. She now sees Absolute Virtue as the only way she can get what she wants. So she intends to kill her husband to save him."

"Well that's not a good sign," Faris quipped.

"You don't know the half of it. Oh, how you don't know. Not even your Gods could hope to know. All lives related to your world are resting perilously atop a bed of nails. It's only a question of what will happen first. Will the Lord Dragon acquire Absolute Virtue, devour you all, and move on to feed on other worlds? Will Mio's desperation lead her to its inevitable conclusion? Will Chaos' grief cost you all your own happiness?"

"It's worse than that." Orlandeau said. "There's also the Eater of Dreams we met in The Mouth."

Alfador's feline features frowned momentarily, and with a sigh he intoned, "Schala is another problem. Fused with a parasite whose evil transcends its base nature, she succumbed to it, and was seduced by Chaos' call. Everything is converging here, you know. All eyes are on the one who obtains the Crystal of Absolute Virtue."

"What do we do, then? Sit and chatter like a hen?"

"Which of these many bad ends do we choose?"

"Choose none of them," Alfador suggested. "That is what Cid Previa decided, when he became aware of all this."

"The Scholar knows all this?"

"The Scholar knows everything." Alfador said, "And I do not mean that in the sense to which you are accustomed. The Gods know everything, you say. What that means is they know everything which Mio permits them to know. Cid Lufaine and Shinryu know everything, you might say, but all you could say is that they know more than the Gods, but are unaware of Mio's influence. The Scholar, on the other hand, knows absolutely everything. He would be an incredible danger if he realized it."

"What do you mean, 'if'?"

"He has no idea how much he knows, of course. The Scholar and his companions asked to know the truth, and the entire truth about everything was shown to them. But what happens if you fill a balloon with an ocean, all at once?"

"It bursts."

"Precisely. And so, too, should the minds of The Scholar and his company. A turn of fate, or luck, however, has permitted that they simply not realize that their heads should all have popped. If The Scholar were ever to suddenly become a God, though, and obtain the space to understand everything he knows, he would represent a terrible threat to us all."

"So what do we do?"

"Choose none of these. Obtain the Crystal of Absolute Virtue for yourselves."

"And then what?" Faris asked, clearly tired, confused, and frustrated by all of this. "Look at us! Do you really think the lot of us would make good Gods?"

"And then the World Full of Flowers," I whispered, just loud enough to be heard.

"What's this about a world of flowers?"

"The World Full of Flowers," I repeated. "A world where we all can be at peace, where the feet of soldiers and the flames of war no longer trample the flowers beneath them, where blood and fire no longer scorch the earth beyond repair."

"This is what has been on your mind? The hidden truth, which lurks your eyes behind?"

"This has been my goal from the outset. The one toward which I have been striving."

"Do you intend to leave us out of this?" Alfador inquired. "Your associate would be heart-broken."

"Associate?" Orlandeau asked. "Just when were you planning on telling us all of this?"

"Never. Your contact that the Gods asked to chronicle this meeting is someone you did not meet that day. I had planned on leaving all of you none the wiser about my involvement in this. Alfador sent me with you so I could . . . why exactly did you send me with them?"

"Why is never a question easily answered, my girl." Alfador replied. "I wanted you to learn about Kidd, and I wanted you to see what happened in The Mouth. I also wanted all of you gathered together, it's true. I cannot interfere directly, but since other external forces are here, such as Omega and Schala, I am able to influence things indirectly. So I have brought you all together for this. Now, you were saying about The World Full of Flowers?"

"Right. Well, Alfador, my associate and I have been laboring to ensure this world would happen. At first all he said was that this world was a dream, and that we needed to ensure that the one we woke up in would be the one full of flowers, but now I see it's more than that. We need to acquire the Crystal of Absolute Virtue and use it to make that happen."

"And you just want us all to sign on to your little idea?"

"Can you be sure that's what I want?" Alfador asked. "For all you know, my purpose could be to have you disagree, so your disagreement might meet some other end I have prepared."

"Now there's a chilling thought."

"Indeed. But there's no need for you all to bear the burden of deciding the fate of reality."

"Well that's a relief."

"No." I said, "With Alfador there's never a relief."

"You wound me."

"Yet you don't deny it."

"Denial is beyond me. There is another option, though. In the near future, a choice will be placed before the unwashed masses you so desperately shrink away from distinguishing yourselves as above. At that moment, the fate of all worlds will hang in the balance. Every one of your enemies is now laboring feverishly to prepare himself for that day, to ensure that his will be the choice made.

"Oh yes, do you think the Lord Chaos is acting in foolishness? No, no, He is wiser than He seems. Chaos is thinking well ahead of the rest, and works Himself to the bone in the hope of being the Chosen One on that day. He is not alone, though. Mio grows desperate, and I do not doubt she will make her play for power at that time. The Lord Dragon is scheming for the Body of God to ensure that no such choice ever be made. The Scholar will undoubtedly be there as well.

"But more, still, there is! I am permitted influence in this realm because someone introduced Omega. There are those who still scheme for Omega to at last consume all, and her ancient war with Shinryu may yet prove to shape your futures. But it needn't!

"This World of Flowers is your chance. The image of the Wild Rose is imprinted already into the minds of key players in this conflict. It is a piece of reality, of the worlds above the one in which you now are trapped. It is the thread that, when pulled, will unravel the tapestry of all illusions. If you will not sew a new world in the place of the one you seek to tear down, though, there is another way.

"Your Associate has found a man above all others who can be trusted to face destiny and make a fair and just decision. A man who, when forced by yourselves to choose for all humanity, he believes will make the right choice. A man who can be made by yourselves to represent all men and choose the best path for them. It is a terrible burden for one man to bear, but if you yourselves will not bear it, your associate believes this man the only one able to do so."

"What man could possibly stand the weight of so immense a task?" Orlandeau asked, incredulous. "Bad enough we sit here and plunge heads forward into a brave, new world we barely understand, now you'd have us cast all the hopes we've yet to forge atop a single man? No, ser, I come from a world where people cast their hopes on one man, and that man rewarded them with blood and fire."

"A fair point, Count Orlandeau," Alfador purred, leaping onto my shoulder. "Allow me to counter: You yourself relied on this very man we are discussing."

"Who? What man could possibly be up to this challenge?"

"You know him well. Does his name not spring to your lips immediately?"

"Enough of these games, cat! What man is this?"

"They call him Ramza Beoulve, the Holy Heretic."

The Saint's face paled several shades and he sank from where he sat to his knees. All he said at first was "No." Then his face turned several shades of red, and he rose at once in a frothing fury, spit flying as he shouted into the darkness, "NO! NO! Bad enough we become the monsters who force all life to follow this path you would set before us, I cannot force Ramza Beoulve to invalidate everything he ever lived for with this action! I cannot! I will not! What you ask is beyond evil!"

"Perhaps," Alfador said, slinking and laying behind my neck, his tail resting before my lips, to prevent me or any other from speaking. "But consider this: going beyond evil is exactly what we must do. Evil will win if you do not act. Which of the other options would you rather?"

"What if we do nothing?" Faris asked. "Let the dream remain. It isn't so bad as all that."

"Inaction is equivalent to choosing Mio," I explained, blowing Alfador's tail away from my face. "From the sound of it, she isn't going to let the dream go on forever, not if she realizes she will never get her family back."

"But what if she does?" Faris shot back, "They're in here somewhere. She can find them and live happily with them."

"She will never accomplish that." Alfador assured. "Cid is in a deep sleep, and nothing she can do could wake him, and his sleeping self has no memory of her. Her son, Garland, is in a similar state. Mio will never find a way to wake them from within the dream. Soon she will realize this."

"You can't know that-,"

"Let us assume she does, then. What use is this world to her after that? Mio had no qualms in enslaving all of you to build this world. Why would she think twice for your happiness after it has served its purpose?"

"I-,"

"I know you did not. Inaction will allow Mio victory, or whatever is nearest to it for her. No, you must choose: The World Full of Flowers, or one of these other horrid fates."

"If the dream must end," Shantotto posited, "Cannot we simply all our fates unbend?"

"Perhaps, but if that's the case, what would stop Mio from simply recasting the spell and starting anew? Or anyone else? Oh, all things will return to how they were before, but this World Full of Flowers is a manner of clause which you might consider as a protective shield against future attempts."

"I hate to do this, but, again, why should we involve ourselves in this?"

Alfador groaned and was about to speak, but I was quicker. "What would you do for love, Orlandeau? Shantoto? Faris? What would you do for the people you love?" They stared back blankly as I continued, "Everyone you have ever known or loved is in danger. How much do you care? Are you apathetic to the point of making no choice at all? Are you content to choose the plan of others, or do you care enough to protect them with everything you've got? What would you do for the people you love? I love them enough that I don't want all of this to ever happen again. I don't want an eternal world, I want the real one. And I don't want anyone, be they scholar or dragon or God to tell me what that world must be like. I just want the real world, and since I have the chance, I want to try and make that world better than I found it. So I will do everything within my power for love. What about you?"

They mulled over my words, and, thankfully, Alfador kept his tongue in check long enough to let them do so. Orlandeau was the first to break the silence. "For those I love, I would lay down my very life to keep them safe. If reality, and a bettered one than the one we all recall, is what you offer, I would gladly lay down my life for that cause. I would give all for those I love."

"I am not the pawn of any God," Shantotto said, rubbing her chin, "Nor am I the one for this dreaming fraud. For love, I all things would do. My pretty dove, I lay my powers with you."

"I've had enough." Faris said, getting to her feet. "I'm not doing this. This is sickness and madness, and I'll have no part In it."

She turned to leave and I got up, too. "Faris, wait-!" I called.

"Let her go," Alfador said, "She wasn't ever going to join us anyway. Her purpose lies elsewhere."

"Nice try kitty," Faris snarled, "But I'm not buying the idea that you're all-knowing. I've seen enough all-knowing Gods to not care. Folks on my world are surprisingly uninterested in relying on Gods."

"I'm only too aware."

"Faris, please, don't go!"

"I'm already gone, love," Faris said, turning and not looking back.

"Let her go," Alfador repeated. "There's much to discuss still, and little night left."

I sank to the ground in assent, or perhaps weary defeat. I didn't love Faris Scherwiz, but after the events in The Mouth, I had thought us all more closely bound than this.

"Now then, there is little time left to us, as our fellowship breaks. After this night, I cannot say when next you will see each other. It is likely that you will not see each other in this world at all. Your opportunities for strategy will be few and far between, but I will guide you when I can. For the night, I have only several unusual instructions which you will follow before I come to each of you individually. It will be harder for our foes to destroy a plan which none of you completely grasps.

"Shantotto, in a year and four months, The Sacred Nebula will be besieged by the forces of Chaos. Someone will betray Cid Lufaine to Chaos on this day. Your mission is to find this person and confront them. When you confront them, you are to allow them to terminate you, is that clear?"

"A suicide mission is not quite what I had in mind," Shantotto stated flatly.

"It isn't a suicide mission. It's a strategy. You need to infiltrate the government of this world and find this traitor. This person will undoubtedly lead you to the means by which we can select who will be active during the coming war in the World Above. If you do not let him kill you, he will not be lured into a false sense of security, and, I believe, a much more terrible fate will come upon you. Is that clear?"

"As mud, my precious fuddy-dud."

"Perfect. Orlandeau, your mission is to convey to Lord Golbez of Chaos' warriors the whole of the things we have discussed here. You will have this opportunity after you arrest him tomorrow in the battle at the Palace of Order. You must make certain that Lord Golbez is kept safe during his encarceration and you must conveniently be absent from his prison on a day I will make known later. After that, your job is to hunt The Lord Dragon's vessel, Gabraanth, and separate the two. Likewise, I require that you escort the young Benjamin tomorrow, and ensure that he is kept unaware of all of this. Arrange for yourself to be put into his debt along the way, and make certain that he is told that, in his darkest hour he must seek out Ramza Beoulve and this beast you have already heard of, the Memory Eater."

"Understood. Will I, too, lay down my life for this cause?"

"Your lives in this realm will be terminated, but your lives in the worlds beyond are dependent upon your own actions, not mine."

"As you say."

"As for you, my dear, young Flower Girl; you will go with me, following the coming trial, to the edge of the Void, where we will proceed with the plan. Now, are there any remaining questions?"

"No, I suppose not," Shantotto said.

"Then I will speak to all of you at a later point," Alfador stated, his body vanishing, beginning with the tail and ending with his teeth. When he had gone, his voice called, "If I were you, I'd try and get some sleep. Aerith, my sweet, I will see you soon."

Silence rested on our camp again, and we knew not what to say or do. From here on out our task would only become much worse. We all had a lot to do from here on out, and our heads were spinning at the massiveness of it all. On all our lips' was the question: "Are we really up to it?" We were three—four, counting Golbez—and we were surrounded on all sides by enemies we barely understood, guided only by a cheshire cat who claimed to have the best of intentions. It all seemed perilously vague, and it was no surprise that Faris wanted out.

Oh, Faris, where are you now? What has become of you in the midst of all this madness? These few thoughts I spare for you, for there are so few I have left to cast for the many lives ruined by these times. To the finder of these reports: this is all I ask: remember that we were, that we felt, that we suffered, and that we fought to end those things.

Orlandeau's last words that night encapsulate best my feelings: "Marche said he was waking up. He was in agony, and in a place cobbled together from madness and broken hearts. Hounded by Gods and protected by one who likely did not intend to protect him." His voice broke as he added, "But I cannot forget those words. 'I'm waking up!' That is why I do this. I want to wake up, too."


	14. Chapter 14 Wizards and Warriors

_**PALACE OF ORDER, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**SIEGE OF CASTLE COSMOS.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

_** CRACK!**_ Was the noise that my mailed hand made as I struck Cid Pollendina across the face. Beneath the armor and cape, I was still visibly fuming, and all but frothing at the mouth. It was all I could do to keep myself from shouting, from tearing him in half. It was preposterous, and horrendous at the same time.

"Don't you ever call me a villain again," I hissed. "Don't you ever preach to me about the difference between good and evil. Don't you ever let me hear you utter the word freedom again. Not after this. Not after this."

"What we have done-," he began.

"WHAT YOU HAVE DONE," I roared over him, "Is take an innocent woman, break her into a thousand tiny pieces, and build a monster in her place. How dare you? How dare you speak to me of a desire to free Heaven from tyranny after this? What in the name of the Lunar Father were you _thinking?_"

"We didn't break her. That was the doing of The Liar."

"One Cid be damned with all others," I cursed, "Liar or Doctor or Scholar, you're all the same. It doesn't matter who started it, you took the broken remains of this woman and made a MONSTER."

"Is that any way to speak of her?"

"Is there any other way? I'm not going to avoid the subject when it so brazenly dances before me! You have all been damned fools, and if I had the might, I would cast all of you into the depths this instant. You make contact with Matoya, or something she left lying around, and you ask the damn thing to drive you insane, then you follow it's advice and patch up a broken soul with OMEGA? Do you even know what you do? This is madness! This is evil unbridled! How can you do this?"

"What else could we do? The girl was broken, we had to fix her."

"And a fine job you did! You should have left her broken and turned yourselves over to the Gods. What do you think would happen to you if her sister found out? Have you ever met Claire Farron, Cid? You don't mess with her sister. The last time that happened worlds ended."

"You think we would go into this without getting a little blood on our hands? You of all people should know change doesn't come unless you do that." His comment was punctuated by the blood in his beard and on my gauntlet.

"Your revolution is over," I hissed, grabbing his throat and thrusting him into the wall. "You are mine, now, Cid. Someday, even if you never thank me, your wife and daughter will. I am saving you from this. You work for me now, is that clear?" He nodded. "You are my eyes and ears in The Scholar's camp. You will inform me of his every move, of every move Obsidian makes. You will do that for me, or I will take your daughter and do to her what you did to this girl, is that clear?"

"You wouldn't!"He croaked.

"I of all people understand that a little blood on the hands is necessary for change." I said, challenging him to defy me. He nodded his assent, and before I could release him, a blast of energy knocked me onto my side, throwing my helmet from me. When the dust cleared, I saw the figure of Cidolfas Orlandeau, The Saint, standing over me, naked sword at my face.

"The battle is over!" He announced to no one in particular. "Your fiendish friends are routed, and Chaos is dead at the hands of the Warrior of Light. Your rebellion is over, and all that remains is for God's justice to be poured out over your head, fiendish demon!" He called over his shoulder, "Find your brothers, Engineer. I believe the Goddess wishes to speak to your leader. You . . . would be wise to prevent that from happening."

Cid Pollendina ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn't so much as look back as he left. For that, I suppose I should be grateful, for, when he had left, The Saint extended a hand to help me to my feet. Wary, I stood on my own. He did not seem to take offense at that.

"The flower girl sends her regards," he said.

I allowed myself to recover from the shock of hearing that before speaking. "Is that so?" I asked, not sure whether he was telling the truth or not, "What else did this flower girl tell you?"

"She asked me what I would do for the ones I love," he said. "I am about to do something I should not for them."

"Oh?"

"I am about to return your helmet."

"Ah. I'm sorry, what?"

"You are being arrested for your part in this attack. You will be arraigned before The Gods, and undoubtedly deposited in the Prison at Sanity's Edge. Before that, though, as a Citizen of Heaven, you will be in my custody. And now, I am going to return to you your helmet."

He held my helmet out to me. I took it from him, confused until I looked into it. Inside it was a scrap of folded paper and an all-purpose key. I had paused only for a moment, so it was somewhat awkward when I put the helmet on without removing either.

"Have you any last requests as a free man?"

"Only that I do not be jailed with the likes of the Cloud of Darkness, Kuja, or Jecht. I cannot stand that lot."

"You will undoubtedly be jailed with them, as a spite for your crimes."

"Please, no!" I feigned misery. "Jecht reeks, the Cloud of Darkness is indecent, and Kuja unnerves me."

"Quiet, you! I will ensure you are personally locked away with them forever."

"Have mercy!"

"As you did to the angels you trampled on your way in? I think not! Now march, or I'll send another Hallowed Bolt down your spine!"

Submissive, obedient, and defeated, I followed The Saint's command. He marched me at sword point through the shambles of Cosmos' Palace of Order. Here and there demons and Fiends were being rounded up and cut down. Without Chaos to embolden them, His forces were quickly falling apart. I wondered, as we walked, how all of this played into His game. Indeed, I wondered how this battle figured into the game in general. Who was winning today? On the surface, Cosmos most certainly was, but beneath that, I could not be sure. To beat the Gods of Gods at their game, I needed keener wits than my own.

Atop the roof of the Palace of Order was a scene I had not thought possible. Lying in their own blood were those who Chaos had made my comrades. Sephiroth's arms were broken, Ultimecia's femur snapped in twain, the Cloud of Darkness had a gash running from her shoulder to her waist, Jecht's teeth were scattered about him, Exdeath lay in four pieces, Kuja's tail was in a knot about his throat, Mateus had fallen apart again, Kefka was impaled on half of Sephiroth's sword, with the other half running through his head, and despite all of this, they were all still alive to some extent or another. Chaos' body was crumpled not far from theirs, with the Warrior of Light seated atop it, his sword still embedded in the God of Discord's forehead.

In a fluid motion he leapt from atop Chaos and removed his sword from His skull, bringing it to bear before me. His armor was stained red with the blood of our company, his sword shining beneath our God's life, his eyes burning between locks of white blood painted red with carnage, helmet broken on the ground, cape tattered and scorched.

"One man did this?" I asked in naked amazement.

"For my Lady," he said, "I would do yet more. This uprising has cost you everything, traitor. Do you wish to resist?"

I swallowed. If I did not, Chaos, upon rising, would learn of it, and my cover would be blown. If I accepted, the Warrior would not think twice about bringing me to the level of my comrades. I was spared the need to answer by The Saint, who said, "At ease, soldier. I have subdued this one, and he will go quietly to the courts of Heaven."

The Warrior eyed Cid, then returned his gaze to me. "As you say, Saint. But if he threatens my Lady, I will supersede your authority."

"I will hand you a sword myself," Orlandeau replied graciously, bowing for effect.

The Warrior relaxed a bit, then walked the line of my fallen comrades again. "What was the meaning of this attack? My Lady has done nothing to harm _any_ of you. And unprovoked all of Hell turns against Her! What mad lies has Chaos fed you, to think that one as innocent as She is worthy of your harm? Tell me! What was the motive for this attack!"

"Chaos told us the truth," Sephiroth grunted. "A truth which evades you, even now."

"What truth? What did he say?"

Sephiroth began to laugh. "Poor little dog, you're so enamored with your slave-master that you don't even know what is happening in your own castle. Shameful, that I should fall before a man so weak-minded as yourself."

The Warrior strode toward Sephiroth, meaning to cleave his head off, but before he could, I interposed myself. "Allow me to explain for my comrades," I said, "I imagine I need to begin rehearsing a testimony for The Gods as it is."

"Speak, then," he said, "And make it better than your friend's."

"I will tell you what I was told. It will be your own decision to decide to accept the truth, and whether or not it pleases you, I can make no guarantee."

"Golbez is an accomplished manipulator," Orlandeau warned. "His words could well be fraught with hidden meaning."

"I will take my chances. I want to know the meaning of this. All of this."

"Chaos came to free Himself from a fate worse than death," I began. "He has been cursed to eternally fight Cosmos. He supposed that slaying Her would free Him from His fate. We came for the same reason. We have been cursed to forever fight the warriors Cosmos has used in these wars. The time was coming for another of these little games between the Gods, and so we rallied to Chaos' side to end things here in Heaven, rather than be returned to the realm where these battles take place."

"Your lies are poor, for one so heavily commended," he said, "I have no memory of these wars."

"You would not."

"How are you aware of these things, then?"

"You misunderstand me. I said that _you_ would not remember. The warriors of Chaos all recall their service to Him."

"But the Warriors of Cosmos do not?"

"That is correct. But you still assume too much. The Warriors of Cosmos are all aware of these wars, and their binding to them."

"But I do not know of this war you claim is so widely known, nor have I any memory of it. Either I never participated, or no such conflicts exist, and there is only the endless struggle your master wages against My Lady."

"The war DOES exist, and you HAVE fought in it. I suspect this is not all you fail to recall."

Orlandeau interjected, "Have caution, warrior, for this no longer pertains to your question."

"I would hear it, nonetheless. What else don't I remember, demon? The day the Gods wore purple hats? That My Lady is really a man masquerading in a woman's body and we all simply are unaware? That She consumes men? Say on, have your mockery ere I cut your tongue from your skull."

"What is your name?" I asked, gambling that the darkest rumors surrounding him were true.

"Sol, the Warrior of Light."

"And who gave you this name?"

"My Lady, of course!"

"Of course? It is not common for Gods to name servants. What were you called before that?"

"Be . . . fore? There was no before. I have always served My Lady."

"Have you, though? Who were you in life?"

"I . . . I was a servant of-,"

"Were you? How did you die?"

"Well I-,"

"I submit that you did not die, nor were you ever born. Your life has simultaneously ended and not yet began. You don't have any memories, because there is nothing to remember."

"What madness is this?"

"Not madness, truth. You are a paradox. You are and yet you never were. At least, not anymore you weren't."

"Am . . . I? I remember . . ."

"You remember what, exactly?"

By this point, he had sunk to the ground, and what functional eyes my comrades had had fallen on him. The greatest, mightiest warrior in all of Heaven and Hell, the very definition of Knights, Fighters, Warriors and Soldiers, was now kneeling before me in confusion. He stared at me, something like confusion and terror and behind it assuredly a great empty feeling as the walls of reality came crashing down upon him evident in his eyes. In the remaining eyes I could see a terrible awareness, a perception, a dawning upon them of things they were not yet to know. I needed to end this, and I needed to do it now, before I played my cards before too many, but before I could, the Warrior spoke.

"Flowers," he said. "A world full of flowers. Green fields, far as the eye can see, rolling and rising and sinking, with flowers all around them. A white castle shining on the horizon. A bridge at sunset. A floating fortress. My Lady, no, a woman with red hair? Both? Six. Four. Two Thousand. I . . . flowers . . ."

"What kind of flowers?" I could not help but ask.

"Every kind."

"One in particular?"

"A rose."

"A rose?"

"Crystals. One. Four. Six. Two Thousand."

"Now look what you've done," Orlandeau said, sighing and shaking his head. "You've gone and broken him." Before I could answer, he strode toward me, and with a single blow, knocked me out cold.


	15. Chapter 15 Crime and Punishment

_**THE COURTS ON HIGH, SACRED NEBULA, "HEAVEN", WORLD D.**_

_**THE DAY OF CID**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL**_

"Mmmm, it's so _big_," I moaned, pressing my pelvis into the guard's. He exhaled, and as he did, my hands, which had been behind his neck, slid gently up his throat. He barely had time to gasp before I snapped his neck and left him to topple to the floor. When he was tended to, he would have a serious crick and no memory of our ten brief seconds of passion. On the floor was a potion I had brewed myself. Made from Neochu leaves and Cactuar bark, it was both a powerful aphrodisiac and an amnesiac drug. I hated to put him through what would once have killed him, but I needed to pass beyond the door, and there had been no quicker way. Court would convene in thirty minutes, and I had much to say before then.

I took the key I had removed from his belt at the beginning of our embrace and slid it in the lock. The tumblers clicked and the door swung open. He was seated, helmet in his lap, as if staring at it. He looked at me as I shut the door with a startled expression; one that quickly changed to embarrassment. He often felt ashamed around me because of his white hair, and I never ventured to tease him for it. He was a young man, in spite of his hair; it was just the nature of his race to grey early in life.

"I have thirty minutes," I said, seating myself beside him before he could rise. "And you're going away for a very long, lonely time. So here's my proposal: Take me, and make these thirty minutes happy ones. We can talk of terrible things later. I'll send word. Alfador will carry my message to you, something. Don't spend your last thirty minutes as a free man talking. Spend them in sweat and vigor, in strength and passion. You're about to enter a place shunned by even the dead, spend your last half an hour enjoying the fullness of life."

He reached a mailed hand out and gently brushed a lock of my hair away, his eyes gazing so deeply into my own that I felt more than naked before him. He smiled a soft, somewhat patronizing smile, and said, "You are a beautiful flower, but not mine to take."

"I am mine to give."

"But not mine to take," he insisted. "And this is the last time we will be together for a long time. I do not disparage your belief that this gesture is a deep one, nor do I doubt the magnitude of such an expression you could make for me, but I am not a man of fire, nor of light. I do not sweat, and in me there is no passion. I am cold, barren and solid to the core. You are the sun, burning bright, but I am the moon, ever half in shadow, half in light. If our time was infinite, yet would I prefer to sit and talk, but even this we must forego. You know as well as I that this is the last time we shall ever see one another in this world. Let us talk of what must be done."

I sighed. He would not be comforted, sad as his voice sounded. He was right, though. We weren't going to see each other again in this world, nor even the next. As of this moment, I have not seen him. I would like to though, one last time, before all is done.

"The Goddess of Chains is coming into the Dream," I said.

"That is an opportunity beyond compare."

"Yes. The wife of the Most High will be entering the Dream in Her last effort to save Him and Chaos. She does not know yet that Chaos will be dead completely by the time She gets here."

"How so? Chaos was slain by the Warrior, but Cid's curse already revived Him and placed Him in the War. For this reason even Cosmos is beyond this council's reach."

"You heard Omega is here, right? Alfador says Omega is going to kill Garland."

"Omega is here, yes, but Omega has been integrated into the body of Serah Farron."

"What? Claire Farron's little sister?"

"Yes. Cid Bunansa sent her to battle Barthandelus, but she lost. The Eye of Matoya showed Obsidian that they could fix her, but it directed them to use Omega's core processor to do so."

"Slow down! Even if she DID lose to Barthandelus, that couldn't possibly be enough to break her spirit. And this is a girl who fought as one of Etro's own, how did she lose to Barthandelus?"

"I believe we have all been playing a game; that we have all served as pieces on the board of a single man, who aimed to outdo the Gods at every turn, and for longer than we had thought."

"Who?"

"Who do you think? Cid Previa has played us all for fools."

"So . . . he staged the Liar's betrayal?"

"No. The Liar's betrayal was merely accounted for. Barthandelus was always going to break whoever was sent against him, Previa was assured of this by the Eye of Matoya, I am certain. Or perhaps The Scholar had always intended to break Serah Farron specifically. I cannot say. I am not even sure how a man who, according to all his peers, was one of the kindest and brightest of men, could become so completely warped in so little time."

"Maybe it wasn't a small amount of time. Faris Scherwiz mentioned something to me. She spoke of the night when Dorgan Klauser and Cosmos fought, you remember?"

"I have heard of this event, but I did not attend."

"Oh?" I asked, somewhat surprised, "Weren't you invited?"

"Anyone for the last thousand years named Harvey was invited. I received the invitation, but I did not attend."

"Why not?"

"I cannot stand loud noise."

"Ah," I stifled a laugh. "Well, Faris said that Drogan was talking about something called the Hero and the Light Warrior Project with Cosmos, and that it heated up. Faris claims that Drogan spent a lot of time with the Scholar. What if whatever caused this change in him happened that night?"

"It would explain his fixation with Cosmos."

"Fixation?"

"Cosmos is an important Goddess, no doubt, but he put a lot of effort into getting the ministry for her wars. A ministry which has never before been filled, since all participants in this war have been participating since before this world began."

"This is an influential time, you mean."

"Extremely. Have you not seen how much influence the Liar had in this short amount of time? The Scholar may have begun his planning for this moment then, but the question remains: why?"

"Faris said that The Scholar often told Bartz that nothing was as real as it seemed, and that there was something more to all this than met the eye. Perhaps, like us, The Scholar had noticed that reality here was too good to be true?"

"So the Dream drove The Scholar mad, to some extent, and he began to plot . . . what?"

"Whatever it is, we can't trust him. You know that."

"Does it need saying? They integrated Omega into Serah Farron's body! The Scholar has effectively placed Omega's power in his own hand. Combined with the knowledge he's gained from The Eye of Matoya, and the influence The Eye still has, there's no telling what he could accomplish! Undoubtedly his aim is sinister. Who has ever sought to harness Omega's power for a GOOD cause?"

"Claire Farron did."

"Claire Farron used Omega's power to destroy Cocoon's Crystal. Omega is a power unto destruction, and that alone."

"Fair enough. I don't think we should waste too much time thinking about Omega, though. Shinryu is loose."

"The Lord Dragon? Alfador told me somewhat about Him."

"Shinryu's taken the body of Gabraanth. He's seeking to kill Cid Lufaine and claim the Crystal within His body. The Crystal of Absolute Virtue."

"I have heard of this Crystal from Kuja. How does it come to be in Cid Lufaine's body?"

"No clue. Alfador might know, but he's not saying. Whatever the case, Omega should distract Shinryu."

"Unless, of course, The Scholar's aim is also to obtain this Crystal. For what ends, I cannot guess, but it would make a tantalizing prize; especially for someone enthralled by Matoya's power."

"You don't think Matoya is pulling his leash, do you?"

"Who knows? Matoya was just a legend until now, and the only other records of her are as an old hag who assisted Cosmos' champions in some vague way. We are speaking of things which, in this World, are occulted by the highest of powers. Our main concern, for now, though, must be what to do when the Goddess of Chains arrives inside the Dream."

"Alfador wants me to be there to greet Her."

"Why is that?"

"He thinks that if I can gain Her trust, I can undo Her actions without Her notice."

" . . . I see . . . it's incredibly dangerous, but if She believes you are Hers, it's the most likely way to keep Her from noticing what we are doing. It's brilliant really. There are so many games being played that we might just stand a chance of never even being caught in ours."

"That's the idea."

"Perfect. Now, to the meat of the matter: our move."

"You had something to say about Ramza Beoulve?"

"Ramza will be the perfect man to balance the odds, yes, but he's only one cog in this machine. This is the game of the Gods, but it has an effect on all of us, yes? Well let us deprive the Gods of the choice."

"How so?"

"Chaos. He has the power to ruin every other plan. Cid Lufaine's days will end, if what Alfador says is true. For no other reason than the fact that Cid Lufaine's conscience has at last caught up with Him. He sealed Shinryu away in this world, so we force both of them together again. If the two are forced to work with each other, they will likely spend half their time plotting how best to destroy one another. Shinryu realizes Cid wants back His freedom, and Cid must have realized, before falling into this slumber, that Shinryu sees us all as livestock."

"Fine, but how do we force them to work together?"

"The Scholar has seen to that, don't you see? Omega will be the threat which unites them against all others. Whether or not he intended for it, Omega will strive to destroy this Dream. We shall let Serah Farron do so. We will guide her to it."

"But I will be busy detaining Cid's Wife and you will be imprisoned. How do you propose we do this?"

"You already have prepared the means. Just as I have gathered those in Chaos' camp who will aide us in our quest, so have you gathered those who will work toward our goal in Heaven. Which of your newfound subordinates is most suited for the task?"

"Alfador has already tasked us all. I am to detain Cid's Wife, Orlandeau will be our eyes in Cosmos' camp, and Shantotto has to die at Barthandelus' hands. That only leaves . . . Benjamin?"

"Yes, Benjamin. He is the innocent, and therefore the perfect choice. You will check in on him from time to time, and lead him to lead her to the places we want her to go before she kills Cid Lufaine. Orlandeau will tell him Ramza Beoulve, who she will meet. Then you will make certain that she fulfills Alfador's prophecy and kills Garland. This will leave Chaos to use another avatar for the time being, and it will drive Cid's Wife into desperation. In due time, we will shepherd her to Cid's throne, where she will slay Him. Before this time, the idea of Ramza Beoulve and the World Full of Flowers will be impressed into the fractures of her psyche."

"And when Cid falls, we will begin the Final Cycle, correct? So we're giving Absolute Virtue to Omega? That seems a dangerous move."

"It is. We must find a way to ensure that Serah Farron dominates Omega's urge to destroy, or that some other part of her is submissive enough to will a portion of it to Ramza. Ramza will possess the Crystal of Absolute Virtue in some portion until such time as we again need him. The point of the exercise is just to show that Omega will be reforged in Serah Farron, which will be enough to frighten Cid Lufaine and Shinryu into collusion again."

"So what about Chaos, Cosmos, and Cid's Wife?"

"Chaos has accounted for His multiple demises, no doubt. His madness is fueled by Cid's rejection of Him in favor of Cosmos. Chaos has established a covenant with all the demons of Hell to give them a world which meets the conflicting desires of all. Ramza's holding the Crystal could work as a failsafe, but I don't know for certain yet. I was thinking something else."

"What?"

"Chaos established a covenant. We will do the same. We have already begun it, wouldn't you agree?"

"The love thing?"

"Yes. Chaos' covenant centers in hatred, but I know only too well that hatred is nothing compared to the strength of love. Cecil taught me that. Love lead him to forgive us all for the things we did wrong. I doubt we can reconcile all these warring sides, but we can take the love of those who hold it over their own ambition and channel it to our own gain. Ramza, wielding Absolute Virtue, backed by love's indomitable force stands a chance of trumping the Mighty in their game."

"Love it is, then. I suppose you'll be preaching it in the Prison while I spread it abroad in Heaven?"

"Yes. Beware of the Warrior of Light, though. I cannot shake the thought that he has some role to play in this. He alone defeated all of Chaos' forces."

"Cosmos' retainer? What about him?"

"Surely you have heard the rumors, have you not?"

"What, that he was the first warrior in Her first battle against Chaos? That She took those memories from him for reasons unknown? Or that they're more than Goddess and retainer?"

"You've heard some, then. The man is shrouded in mystery. Just . . . be aware of him."

"I will be, but tell me something: what will you be doing while I'm so busy up here?"

"Chaos planned for the war in World B. He knows this one is ending, even now. His might is enough to oppose even Omega. I will work to undo Chaos at every turn. His entire covenant is already in my hands. I can and will break it when I deem necessary. In the meantime, I must continue to convince His warriors that I am one of them."

"You realize how great a gamble we are taking, don't you?"

"Placing all our hopes and labors on the backs of a few people? Absolutely. But it must be so. We will slave to make possible the world we desire, but if we force it upon them, we are no different from Cid's Wife, forcing this one on us. It will hurt them, of course. Benjamin, Serah, and Ramza. It will scar them, break them, hurt them to their very cores. But this is what we must do if we are to give them a future free of any such pains."

"So it is," I said, getting to my feet. "It's time."

"It is," He said, rising to show me out. "One last thing, then."

"What's that?"

"I . . . am going to miss your company."

His cheeks were blushing, and, if it wasn't the most emotional thing he'd ever said to me, I would have laughed at him. Instead, I leaned forward and embraced him. I had to stand on the tips of my toes to kiss his cheek and whisper, "I'm going to miss you, too."

That was the last time I saw him. At the time I knew he was hiding something, and though I can guess what it was, I have been content to leave it be. I have also reflected frequently on our unlikely companionship along the way. Who would ever expect this combination of silk and steel to be playing a game against every major contender in the universe? Who would ever expect an innocent flower girl and an unassuming man in black to be scheming for control of the future of all life?

Yet there we were, I, a girl from the wrong side of Midgar, and he a boy raised among fiends united by dreams of flowers and the common hope for a world where people could live in happiness, free from fear of sword or flame. Where voices need not cry out that you must be black or white, but where all colors would be celebrated in their vibrance. A world where none would hurt or dare to make afraid. We were as different as different could be, but when you stripped us of everything, we became the same: two souls, clinging together in the cold, suddenly wondering what they could do about it.

I left the room without looking behind me, locking it and dropping the key on the unconscious guard. The trial, in honesty, had already begun before I had entered into his chamber. Orlandeau had been listening to it for me, and would give me an account of what had happened when we met up. I climbed the twenty sets of stairs from the dungeons to the amphitheater where the Gods sat in audience, and the Cids had been called to council.

It was an unusual move, and one which bears explaining. The Highest, Cid Lufaine, was, as the name implies, a Cid. He sat on the council of the Gods, presided over it in fact, but also was a member, though not president, of the Council of Cids. The Council of Cids was a choir which had only convened once before in the past, on the issue of the changes which made Heaven transform from its absolute paradise state to the simulation of the world we all remembered.

The Scholar, we had discovered, had been imprisoned by the Lady Cosmos, because of unspecified crimes during the time he ministered for Her. All Heaven was talking about it. Hell was in shambles, since Chaos' rebellion appeared to have failed. His generals were now incarcerated or slain, and His forces routed. The Council had been called together as a trial _in absentia_ for the Scholar. His fellow members of Obsidian had been arraigned and stood trial as well. As I emerged from the stairwell, I heard The Scholar's voice, "Mid? Who is that? I am sorry, you must be confused."

Shocked, I step out into the amphitheater proper and see that, on a podium near its center stand the remnants of Obsidian, and the voice of The Scholar is nothing but a message they have recorded onto Cosmos' missing crystal. The recording ends a moment after, and the amphitheater erupts into chaos and confusion.

There were Gods and Cids shouting and pointing everywhere, and the throng was so incensed that I would never have found Orlandeau had he not come to me himself.

"What's happened!" I shouted over the din.

"A farce of a trial, that's what!" he roared back. "They tromped out a man so clearly not Cidolfas Demen Bunansa that when they called him The Liar I nearly laughed. They had Cid Al Bhed present a tailored version of our battle against Remedi. When Benjamin tried to explain about Marche, they just marched them off the stands. Now Obsidian's gone and said that Cosmos hasn't imprisoned The Scholar, she's absorbed him! And something about the body of the First Cid being used to make crystals!"

"Cid Al Bhed? He wasn't even there! Why weren't YOU asked? You're a Cid!"

"It seems something is afoot here. The Scholar's report on Cosmos claims he slew The Liar in Her palace. Who was the man they all claim is The Liar, then?"

Before I could respond, we were silenced by a _**THAT IS ENOUGH!**_ Which rumbled and resounded from the walls to the depths of our souls. On the podium was standing a figure in a white Devout's robe. Around him was a wreath of flame and glory that slowly subsided until we could actually look at him. There was no need to ask who this was: this was Cid the Highest.

_**I HAVE HEARD ENOUGH OF THIS SLANDER, KU-,**_ he announced.

"Slander?" The Wanderer spat, "We have told you the truth! Cosmos' war is a farce beyond measure! There's something wrong with all of it! We were practically forced by Her in our choices! She has taken the best and brightest souls under the pretense of defending us from Chaos, but in truth, She schemes to control all of Heaven!"

_**THAT IS ENOUGH! THE SCHOLAR HAS PRESENTED HIS REPORT, AND IN HIS ABSENCE, AND THE ABSENCE OF LADY COSMOS, IT FALLS TO US, THE COUNCIL OF CIDS TO DETERMINE THE TRUTH OF THIS SITUATION. AS HE WHO ORDAINED THEIR BATTLE, I WILL TELL YOU THE TRUTH OF COSMOS' WAR.**_

"And you will spend your divine might in forcing us to swallow a lie no honest angel would believe!" The Messenger said, facing his God without fear.

_**I WILL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR REJECTION OF REALITY. COSMOS' WAR WITH CHAOS IS HER PUNISHMENT FOR THEIR CRIMES, NOTHING MORE. SHE KEEPS OUR REALM SAFE FROM HIS INVASION, THIS IS HER ONE DESIGN FOR HEAVEN. THESE FANTASIES OBSIDIAN HAS INVENTED MUST BE ENDED.**_

"You cannae be serious!" The Engineer protested. "Nae na face o this!"

_**I AM SERIOUS. CONFESS NOW: WHAT WAS THE PURPOSE FOR OBSIDIAN'S RAISING THESE WILD CLAIMS? ARE YOU IN LEAGUE WITH CHAOS?**_

"In league with Chaos!" parroted the Chronicler in disbelief. "We are not His pawns, nor the pawns of any other! Our purpose is the same one etched in the stones of this building: A thousand stars a God!"

_**YOU LIE. I CAN SEE HER BEHIND YOU, EVEN NOW.**_

"Her?"

_**ARREST THEM!**_ He called to any nearby, _**FOR THESE MEN ARE IN LEAGUE WITH A DARK POWER, AND ENEMIES OF THE STATE! ABOUT THEM IS THE FOUL STENCH OF ONE WHOM HEAVEN, HELL, AND THE VOID HAVE REJECTED!**_

"What madness has taken this man who claims to be our God?" The Wanderer jeered.

_**NOT MADNESS KUP—NOT MADNESS! I WILL NOT TOLERATE SUCH MOCKERY FROM ONES WHO HAVE TURNED TO THE LIKES OF MATOYA FOR POWER!**_

There was a pause, and the entire amphitheater sat upon the edge of its seat. Not Cid nor onlooker dared to speak. If there was a devil or a boogieman in World D, it was Matoya. Her name was never spoken aloud, and she was only ever referred to as the font of evil and suffering. To hear Cid Lufaine openly proclaim the members of Obsidian in league with her was a chilling accusation.

For their part, though, the members of Obsidian at last did not seemed shocked. Indeed, they were, by all accounts, prepared for this it appeared.

"I take it that means you won't be giving us back our master, then?" The Chronicler asked.

"In the which case, we will take him back ourselves."

_**BEWARE, LITTLE CIDS, YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU NOW UNDERTAKE.**_

"Nor do you seem to comprehend with whom you are speaking," The Chronicler said. "And on that note, we now bid you adieu. Until Final Heaven falls, and The Scholar is liberated and vindicated; farewell."

With a sudden _pop!_ The four remaining members of Obsidian disappeared. The Amphitheater began to shake and the robed figure of God began to rumble with it. The skies darkened and the ground quavered. The Highest was beyond furious, and I shudder to think what He might have done had He realized that He held absolute control over reality then and there.

As it was, He howled, _**!**_ At the top of His lungs. Seraphim poured from the stands to the golden streets below, and from that moment onward, the four members of Obsidian were declared enemies of the State. At first, people asked questions. Who was Matoya? What had the Cids done to earn the ire of God? Where was The Scholar being kept? But after some people who asked too loudly began to disappear, interest died quickly. Heaven fell into the calm before a storm as Cosmos and Chaos warred in their dream-within-a-dream and I made myself scarce for awhile. According to Alfador, it would be another year before our efforts began anew, and in that time there was much setting up to do.


	16. Chapter 16 Wartime and Peacetime

_**THE CRYSTAL PLAINS, "WORLD B," "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**THE SCHOLAR'S CYCLE**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK**_

I am a liar. I have been lying perhaps this entire time. I lied to the flower girl to protect her. I lied about everything, I suppose. That day, the Day of Cid, I told her only as much of my plans as I believed necessary to keep her moving. I would have told her more, but the moment she told me Alfador was sending her to the presence of Mio, I knew I could not risk it. I suppose, in the end, I am no different from all the men that Delita Heiral hated, and all those The Scholar hungered to cast down.

I am a user. I have used her for my own purposes. I did not tell her that I have been working this flower emblem since before World D was ever raised, nor did I tell her everything I intend to do now, nor during the Final Cycle. I know much, more, I daresay, than almost any other member of this war by now. I have been involved for a long time, and I have gotten very good at this game. To you, the reader of this report, I yet do not divulge all I aim to accomplish in the coming storm. This is necessary, you understand, because I do not know if you are my friend or foe.

I am a deceiver. I promised the flower girl that I would give the man she loves a new chance at life. I promised the Cloud of Darkness that I would bring her to the man she loves. I have promised Jecht his son back. I am no different, I suppose, from Chaos in that respect. Nor am I different from Cosmos, who has wooed Her heroes with the promise of crystalline salvation, nor am I different from how Cid once was, promising Cosmos and Chaos that they could go home if they would participate in this war of His. I am no different from Shinryu, who promised Cid that selling His beloved Son would bring Him freedom, and His body Godhood. To be honest with you, I would have told them all these very lies if it brought me even an inch closer to my own goal.

My goal I am not yet fully prepared to divulge. I believe this apprehension comes from the fact that I am yet conflicted. As the flower girl clings to her past love, so does this delusory warlock yet cling to some small shard of hatred. A fragment, a sliver, something so insignificant, so pathetically small that any other man would not even notice it. But it is there; a seed from whence Zeromus once raised the bombing of Damcyan, the invasion of Mysidia and so much more.

I am an angry man. Others perhaps perceive me as desperate, or as pathetic, but that is not the truth. The truth is that some part of me still hates Cecil. I would never openly admit this, for I have striven in my later years to make amends, to set right all that I ruined in my life, but a part of me still holds on. Cecil has a wife, a son, and a kingdom. He has friends, and a mission in life. What do I have? The hatred and ire of all my world, and a legacy that will forever be reviled.

I could have united the world beneath me. I could have reigned as Zemus' prince over man and Lunarian alike. Women, friends, and power could have been mine. People would have loved, feared and respected me. And these thoughts, these thoughts are what I fear. These thoughts are the remnant of Golbez, and I must strike them down if I am ever to be worthy of the work I have undertaken.

But even if I fail in that, yet will I not fail in my mission. For this is not about me, and never will be. To that end, my goal is to set free all those who have been imprisoned by the Gods. Understand I speak of the true Gods, or at least those who would seem as Gods to us outside the context of the Dream. My aim is to free all life from World D and return it to World A. I would love to create the World Full of Flowers, but my aim, which is significantly lower by comparison, is merely to set things back to the way they were before the Lufaine and Shinryu interfered with the natural turning of things.

I will do all in my power, understand, to make this World Full of Flowers come true, to bring a world wherein wars and bloodshed no longer taint the fields of the joy of man, but failing that, I will cease at nothing to achieve a return to the world we knew. For much as a fragment of my soul detests being remembered as Golbez the destroyer, it means more to me that I _be_ a good man than that I be _remembered_ as such.

With these thoughts, I turn to the narration of the Cycle within the Dream. To be clear, I know we fought at least one other within the Dream, as all we who served Chaos recalled it. Beyond that I cannot say, for I am unsure how long we were really within the Dream. I do not know if anyone other than the Goddess of Chains knows that for certain.

We stood atop a crystal formation jutting out of a shallow pool in what was known as The Crystal Plain. The realm in which we fought was a replica of World B, and I assume this means it exists below World D somewhere, but I cannot be sure. This plain must exist somewhere in World B, though, and that knowledge was of particular use that day.

"We have limited time," The Cloud argued, "We should use it in action, not planning."  
>"She's gotta point," Jecht stated, siding with her. "I'm more of an action guy anyway."<p>

"I disagree," Kuja said, taking my side, "what is the use of random action? We need to know what we're doing, and if what Golbez has said is true, we're being given a golden opportunity to catch up to Chaos here."

"And how do you know this to be true?" The Cloud asked me.

"A magician never reveals his secret," I responded coyly. "Suffice it to say that I have spent every waking moment uncovering every facet of this situation I can."

"That's an inhuman level of preparedness. Art thou a God?" Kuja quipped.

"A God? No more than the ones we have known in the Dream," I said with a noncommittal shrug. "Trust me; this is the state of things. The world we now are in is a replica of the one we will escape the Dream to. This is a model of the stage upon which the final battle will be fought."

"We trust you, bub," Jecht grunted, shaking his head, "if we didn't, we'd've sold you out to Chaos by now. So let's just get this going, shall we?"

"There's little time for us to discuss today, as Cosmos' warriors will soon be upon us. We are in agreement, though? That we should use this world to map out our plans for this coming battle?"

"We're agreed. How much we can hope to succeed, though, I cannot say," Kuja added.

"We have all faced Gods or their ilk before, let us now do as the Warriors of Light would, and strike down these foes who seem our betters."

"I never thought I'd be compared to the likes of Light Warriors."

"Nor did I," I admitted, "but these are strange times, and they call for strange ideas."

"A question," the Cloud of Darkness raised her voice, "What will be our goal during the coming war?"

"We are to occupy Chaos, and undo His work. My associate and those who work with her will be busy preparing things in Heaven for our return. By the time the next Cycle begins, we will be prepared for our last work. Cosmos will not be using these same warriors we will face here again. The flower girl will turn them one by one against her. We must devote some time to the new blood, then."

"On either side?" Jecht asked.

"Yes. We must lead as many as we can to the ideal of the Wild Rose. It will unite them, and they will enter into our covenant, and from there, the remaining cogs turn."

"And we achieve what each desires separately as well?"

"Yes."

"What irony!" Kuja exclaimed. "What we do for love! We, who were always estranged from it in life."

"Do you have doubts now?"

"No. I'm just surprised by this turn of events."

"Even Chaos was once a kind and caring man. If the good can turn to unspeakable evil, cannot the unspeakably evil turn to good?"

"I dunno," Jecht said, "I've done some messed up stuff."

"Nevermind that," Kuja snapped, "what do we do with them?"

"Do you miss your evil ways?" I inquired, "Then let us go down and break their spirits."

We descended from our place on the cliff to the approaching party of Cosmos' slaves. Before us came Firion, Terra Branford, Bartz Klauser and their fearless leader, the Warrior of Light. His presence meant our inevitable loss, I knew, but before that, there were some seeds to be sewing.

"Greetings, Warriors of Harmony!" I shouted, drawing their attention. "I come bearing gifts!"

"Yeah, you look like a regular magic pot!" Bartz called.

"My gifts come more freely, no elixirs required. Well, come to think of it, you might want one or two after all."

"Bartz, behind you!" Firion called, but it was too late. Kuja had snuck up on Bartz and, as he turned, pumped a round of Holy into his chest, sending him flying. Before he could come to his aid, Firion was restrained by the Cloud, whose tentacles embraced him. Jecht restrained Terra, leaving the Warrior to me.

"Surrender now and we will spare your lives!" The Warrior called, stepping forward with brazen courage.

"You will never even touch us," I responded descending to where he stood. "Even if your blade pierces this armor and flesh, you cannot ever kill me, not here."

"What do you mean?" Firion mocked, "Chaos and Cosmos are the Gods, not you."

"Not all Gods are Undying," The Cloud said, her ruby lips pressed tight to his ear, "nor are all who are not Gods mortals."

"Cut the crap," Bartz said, getting to his feet, "We didn't come here for you to wax philosophical."

"Then I fear, young Klauser, that you will be most disappointed. Even our explanations will leave you dissatisfied, but because of your friends, I shall . . . elucidate. This world does not exist. We are not here, and if we were to return to whence we came, yet would you be unable to kill me, for yet would that world not exist, and yet would we not be there."

"But if we're not here, and we're not there, where are we?" Terra asked.

"Sleepin' girly," Jecht purred, "We're all out stone cold."

"Have you finished?" The Warrior asked. "Because I have."

"It matters not if you or I have finished. Cosmos will never release you, you must be aware. She will take everything from you She can, and when you are yet an empty and dried husk, She will be disappointed. You cannot satisfy Her, surely you all know that?"

"This isn't about satisfying Gods!" Firion shouted, "This is about gathering the Crystals and defeating Chaos, so we can go home!"

"Let us examine that, shall we?" I was, to be honest, surprised that the Warrior had not yet struck me. Then I recalled that here he remembered even less than in the Dream. He was not aware of even the minimum of his strength, let alone the limitless potential he might well have held. "How can you gather the Crystals, if they are not here? There are no Crystals in this realm. Nor are there any in the world from whence we all have come. And how can you expect to go home, when the home from whence we all hail does not exist? I say to you: you will not find Crystals here, and when this Cycle has ended, you will not be going home."

"Is that a threat?"

"Oh my, it rather sounds like one, doesn't it?"

"Prepare yourself, warlock, your lying tongue is about to be stemmed."

"The air upon which this world is founded will be swept into ashes and dust before that happens, my dear man."

The Warrior lunged forward, and as he did, Bartz came to flank me. I waited until the last second to teleport, and when I reappeared less than a second later, I was sure to give them my best laugh. Goaded, they tried again, only to be frozen to the ground by Kuja.

"Let me ask you something, Warrior of Harmony. It is an important question, so I want it to sink into the depths of your soul. I want it good and stuck, like a thorn in your skin, like the head of a tick, poisoning the bowels of your spirit from within, like a seed that, when it germinates, bears the fruit of your salvation. This is my gift to you, and to all: Who are you, Warrior?"

"What kind of a-,"he began.

"What is your name?" I interrupted, enjoying the strange familiarity of the scene.

"I . . ."

"Why do you serve the Lady Cosmos? For how long have you served Her? What about Her inspires your loyalty?"

"Why ask him?" Terra called, "None of us can remember our pasts anyway!"

"Can't you?" Kuja teased, "You know your names, don't you? And Bartz remembers magic pots, in spite of there being no such thing in this world. You all know what Chocobos are, even though there aren't any here. Your memories linger, echoes of worlds above. But your dear hero, he can't seem to recall a thing, and why is that?"

"There is nothing for him to remember," the Cloud stated. "He never was."

"What?"

"It would be more fair to say you no longer ever were."

"Okay, dude, how does that even make sense?" Bartz quipped.

"There once was a Warrior of the Light, I have heard. They say Cosmos took that from him, though. A cruel jape, a baseless whisper thieves and demons tell one another. The story has its variations, that She did it for love, to save his life, or because She was jealous, as punishment, and so on. But you never were, and so you have nothing to recall."

"I don't have time for this nonsense," The Warrior stated, lashing out afterward.

I stepped backward in time to bury my fist in Bartz. The Cloud tightened her grip on Firion, and Jecht's embrace of Terra became far less comfortable. "How don't you? There is no time here, nor in the world from whence we came. You have nothing but time."

"I have heard enough of this!" The Warrior called, his temper eroding at last. His sword cut forward, and nicked the end of my cape before I could warp away from it.

"You haven't heard the least part of it. We are pawns in a game played by angry and jealous Gods." The Warrior struck out again and again, and I taunted him as he struggled to strike me down. "The Gods who play with us like toys are naught but children! It is their Father who pulls the chains, who controls us all. At the whim of the Great Will do we fight and kill each other, and Cosmos and Chaos alike are powerless to resist Him."

"You lie! My Lady is just and true, and dances to no man's drum!"

"Your Lady is a slave, nearly as much as you yourselves are. She lies and deceives better than I ever could."

"My Lady is honest and innocent as a babe!"

"What is a babe? No children have ever been born in this World. How could you know what a child even is?"

"How I know matters not! I know, and that is enough!"

"Is it, though? A pity, then, as you know nothing."

"I know plenty!"

"What do you know, Warrior? Not even your name! And rightly so, for you no longer HAVE one!"

"STOP IT!" Terra cried, throwing Jecht off her shoulders, her skin erupting in a white flame. The battle was about to turn against us, but they still stood exactly where I wanted them. Terra snarled and charged the Cloud. She released Firion in time to strike Terra across the face and send her spiraling into the Cliffside.

"You damn brats just don't get it, do ya?" Jecht growled, his own body changing. His hair was growing, becoming long and white, his skin darkening to the hue of my armor, horns emerging from his head and spikes from his arms. "This fight ain't about sides. Picking one is the best way to die!"

"Funny words, coming from someone who picked sides," Bartz snapped, racing toward him. His sword got caught between the spines emerging from Jecht's arm. A look of horror passed his face as Jecht grinned. In the next moment, he was on the ground, struggling for air.

"All this suffering, and for what?" Kuja asked, drawing near to Firion. "You should just let us pass you by. Allow us to end Cosmos, and free you from all this pain."

"I won't let the likes of you trample us! All our hopes, or dreams, our lives ride on this! I won't just stand by and let you destroy that!"

"What hopes?" The Cloud asked, "What dreams? You have only lies and illusions, put in your heads by others."

"No!" Terra screamed, "We have something that's ours!"

"You have nothing," I hissed, "Nothing at all. Nothing which these false Gods of ours have not given you, be it with a spoon or through artifice, all your thoughts have been dictated by the Narrator, and he, like you, is Cosmos' toy."

"NO!" Terra insisted, "We have something of our own!"

"Fools," Kuja teased, "to be so sure of what you know is not."

"Tell us," I scoffed, "What could you possibly have?"

"The flowers," Firion said, bringing a heavy mace down on the back of my helm, causing me to stumble into a kick from Terra. "We have our dream of the flowers, our desire to fill the world with them."

My blood had run chill at the statement. All of them remembered the flower here. The flower I had labored to imprint in their minds since before falling into the Dream. My efforts were coming together too fast. I suppose that makes sense, though, as they were two separate plans based on a similar idea, and little else. What I had planned before becoming trapped down here I cannot say rightly. I am lucky I even knew that the flower had been the crux of my plan from the beginning.

The Wild Rose had been in my dreams, on that account I never lied to the flower girl. It had been there much longer than she knew, though, and, like the Cloud, I had seen more in those dreams than just the flower. What I have seen I leave to the finder of this Report to determine. It is of little relevance overall anyway.

Ten seconds before the Warrior of Light's sword could connect with my face, I shouted, "ENOUGH!" and sent them staggering backward with a shockwave. "I promised you would not touch us, and the time has come to make good on that." At my sign, the others began to teleport away from the battle. I drew my cloak about me when the Warrior spoke.

"Big man in a suit of armor. Take it away and what is left of you?"

"A man, which is less than your Goddess has left of you."


	17. Chapter 17 Comings and Goings

_**THE MOUTH, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**FOUR MONTHS PRIOR TO THE ATTACK ON BAHAMUT'S LAIR**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL**_

I didn't like going back to The Mouth. I'd been having a rough time of things since the Day of Cid. We all had, really. Heaven was changing. Cid Lufaine had retired to the depths of His Holy Temple, His servants given only one directive: Hunt for the fugitive Obsidian, and maintain order until the coming of Cosmos. Cosmos had just recently returned, but already Her influence was felt throughout Eternity. The other Gods cowered before Her will, and everywhere institutions were being shut down for contradicting Her view of the Heavens.

I had felt very alone during this time. Orlandeau maintained his cover as one of her loyals, Benjamin had been put into contact with Omega, and Shantotto was conducting her investigation without us. I had not seen hide nor hair of Faris since that night, and my companion had been trapped in the war of the Gods. I could not even see Cloud, for he, too, fought there. Alfador had kept me busy, running his errands, but otherwise I had been left with too much silence, and too many unhappy thoughts to fill it.

In The Mouth, I could not say what haunted my steps. I missed him. I was afraid, then, to admit it to myself, but I need to get this off my chest. I miss _him_. Not Cloud. I mean, I miss Cloud, but I knew, going into this that I wouldn't be seeing him again for some time. I love Cloud, and I miss everything about him. I miss the strength of his loins, the feel of his hands on the small of my back, his breath on my neck. Many probably can't understand why I would. A man who could pass himself off as a woman, but something about him gets in my skin and drives me insane. But I'm not talking about Cloud.

I don't mean Zack, either. Zack's like a puppy. He's adorable, devoted, and more loyal than I could ever deserve. But he's also high maintenance. His energy is consuming, and there are times when I want to be by myself and just THINK. Zack is all action, and I can't keep pace. I mean, in bed I can, of course, but on a daily basis he's just go-go-go and I never have time to stop and think. Zack isn't who I'm talking about, either, though.

I miss Golbez. I never thought I could admit it, but it's true, and it's so hard for me to understand. There's no sex involved. We've never even kissed. He'd never allow it. But sex or no, I miss him. I miss his company, I miss talking to him, and I miss just sitting with him and thinking. He was my friend here, in the Dream, and I needed that friendship. The Day of Cid I knew already our relationship was at its end, but I didn't understand with my heart that I'd lost a friend so near and dear. As I wandered The Mouth that day, it wasn't thoughts of Marche's demise, of Gabraanth's possession, nor even of our encounter with Kidd that followed me. It was thoughts of Golbez, and what I missed about him.

I miss his laugh. A laugh which once chilled men's blood and struck fear into their hearts. But for me, it had been gentle. I missed his smile, a grin which, even hidden behind the cold, unfeeling helm which is more his face than his own flesh, was startlingly rare. I miss being able to lean on his massive shoulders as I read or slept or talked about my problems. I miss him, and his absence hurts as much now as it did, then. I know some friendships end more poorly, like that of Dr. Lugae and Dr. Cid, of Vossler and Basch, and so on, but I don't care. What I care about now, and what I cared about then was that he was and is gone from my life, and if our plan works out, we still may never again see each other.

When I arrived at the place I'd met The Eater of Dreams, I was remembering for the thousandth time that last embrace of ours. His arms, even shrouded in the steel he used to hide from the world, felt warm to the touch, and though he towered above me, I could feel his breath on my head, and his might made me feel safe. What a strange thought! Golbez, who is one of Chaos' chosen, and who is feared and has been feared all the days of his life, who has blackened his body with the blood and ash of the innocent, and I, an "innocent" flower girl, felt safe in his embrace! How many times has anyone ever felt safe when they thought of the Scourge of Baron?

As I denied these thoughts in my head, Alfador climbed the lip of The Mouth and called for my attention. He frowned at me, if a cat can be said to frown, and said, "You're late."

"I am. Security in this region has tightened since Orlandeau reported Gabraanth's treachery. Undoubtedly this has nothing to do with what Remedi claimed the Gods were hiding here."

"Indeed. You know why you are here today?"

"The one who has imprisoned us within this Dream will be entering the Dream from this point in the very near future."

"Not exactly. She has been inside the Dream for some time, to be honest with you. A dormant soul, nibbling on the edge of a host. That host is one Gogo, who, until recently, has been in this world's representation of The Void, feeding on the being known as Enuo."

"Gogo, feeding on Enuo?"

"It is time you fully understood the enemy you will be fighting. She is the Wife of Cid Lufaine. Her name is Mio. Once, she was a Lufenian, just like he was. When Cid was torn from his world with Chaos and Cosmos, Mio was fatally wounded. Indeed, her wound is the force which triggered Chaos' rage, causing him to drag Cid and Cosmos into another world. Mio's dying body dragged itself to the Town on the Hawk's Wing, where she took part in the last Sin of the Lufaine.

"Many are the crimes for which that ancient people must answer. Chaos, the War Machine, the Floating Fortress, the Manakin Hordes, Cosmos, Cid Lufaine himself, and their rite of passing the memories of one to another. They sought to cheat death, and in so doing, they created a monster. Their saving grace is that all their evils combined into one result, and that result will redeem them all. That is wisdom, and in me it will remain for now.

"Mio became a set of memories. Data, if you will, recorded in the brain of another woman. This woman's line fled the falling leaves to what would one day become Corneria. Her line passed these memories down, encoded in them, unawares. The queens of Corneria carried her memories in secret for a very long time, and I had believed her confined.

"But Mio is a wise one, cunning and more thoughtful than I had believed. She was last seen in an interview with the Sage Lhukan. Lhukan told her something which I believe drove her to do what she did. You see, Mio's desire has ever been to recover her family. Her obsession is such that she does not realize that she has had many families since. Mio saw the rise of the Fiends and their hailing the coming of Chaos as her last chance. Lhukan told her that Chaos' failure was inevitable, that he would be slain.

"And then she escaped the world. In anguish only a mother can know, she reached out into the darkness for help. She called out for something that could provide her with an escape, and the means to save her son. And, because there is ever something lurking in the shadows, a hand was indeed extended to her.

"Mio treated with a monster who fed on the memories of others, who hungered to devour the painful memories of these war-torn worlds. An eldritch abomination not unlike the Lord Dragon has become. The fiend thought it ruled her, that it could dominate her, and use her as its Beauty. But Mio became the Beast, and it served her will. In her travels, Mio became aware of how vast the world truly is.

"She found a little girl, a witch called Namine, who changed the very way the world looked for Mio. Namine was shy, quiet, and kind. She was also more willing to do what was wrong than she cared to admit. This is nothing unusual, though. Man is always willing to sacrifice his virtues for love. Mio saw that kindred spirit in Namine at first, I think, for the girl was also in love.

"A love never meant to be. The boy she loved had been bound in a chamber of sleep, and when he awoke, he would forget everything, including her. Which was just as well, as she was never meant to be, and the girl he loved was not her. You must already feel in your heart what this story means, I believe?"

"It sounds like what the Dream Devourer was talking about."

"Yes, this is the origin of Kidd, in one sense. This is where Mio's plan was born. Mio discovered the truth about her husband during this journey: that he had been involved in a project called the Sky Warrior Project. The idea was that, to defeat Matoya, six brave souls would be chosen to lead the Lufenian troops into battle. One would be the Hero, and the people would rally around them and victory would be assured. Mio discovered that this action had ripples, which in turn made waves.

"Sky Warriors, Dawn Warriors, Dark Warriors, Zodiac Braves, L'Cie, Crystal Caravans, no matter what you call them, they were all just iterations of that same idea, incarnated again and again across the worlds, be it by Crystals or Gods, it made no difference. Everywhere Mio went, she ran into that heroic spirit that had been mocking her since the moment Lhukan had named him: she had been running from the Warrior of Light.

"Mio saw him as the source of all her suffering, her pain, and her anguish, and as hers and Raem's knowledge grew, feeding on the memories of the worlds, she became more and more able to hurt him. Namine, you see, had been used by evil men to hurt the heart of the boy she loved. Mio saw a pattern unfold before her eyes. Wherever she went, the Warrior of Light's coming hounded her steps. And wherever she looked, there was invariably a woman in the shadow of that Light, whose love was sacrificed for the greater good. The man was always the son of some great mind, and therein Mio recognized her husband.

"So Project Kidd was hijacked. Its original purpose forgotten or as yet unfulfilled because of Mio's intervention. Kidd became the term referring to the women who loved the Sons of Cid, and the victims of Mio's design. Mio waited for the exact moment to strike, when all events aligned in her favor. Chaos had died in World B, releasing the Warrior into World A, and at the same time, the Warrior, in the future, slew Chaos. Mio, inspired by Namine, put all reality to sleep to save the man she loved.

"But someone had to take the fall. Someone had to be punished, and it couldn't be the Warrior who stalked her nightmares. Oh, no, it couldn't be him."

"Why not? He was the enemy of everything she loved, wasn't he? The Warrior slew Chaos, or would slay Him. Why couldn't he take the fall? It seems perfect."

"It's more ornate than that. Cid Lufaine's mind would break without the Warrior. Indeed, the Warrior of Light was and is the only reason he has not yet lost his mind to grief and guilt."

"Why the Warrior? He's only one man. Unless the rumors are true . . ."

"They are. The Warrior of Light is the Son of God. The visible image of your Invisible God. His exact likeness. The Warrior of Light is a reflection of the man Cid Lufaine once was. Cid Lufaine doesn't see him as a son now, if he ever did. He sees him as everything he ever strove for, though.

"The Warrior of Light is his ideal. He is the Hero. You cannot understand this because you don't SEE, because you are blind and stupid and small-minded like all your kind, but the Warrior is something elemental and basic which all worlds hope to one day birth. There must always be a Warrior, and he must always fight Chaos. It doesn't matter if he is the Hero fighting the Hatred of Demise, or if he is the Son of Big Boss, giving his life stop Zero. It doesn't matter if he is Zero, fighting Doctor Wily, or Rock, doing the same before him. It doesn't matter if it's Sora and Xehanort, Mario and Bowser, Ness and Giygas, or Crono and Lavos. The Warrior of Light is not JUST the Son of God. He is the end result of all God's Work. You all gather crystals around your heroes and fight whatever monsters assault your worlds, and why? Because these are echoes of this warrior and his struggle against Chaos.

"And Chaos could not exist within the dream without the Warrior, for he hates him, and has made it his goal to kill him."

"But why? Why does Chaos hate him?"

"Haven't you been listening? Chaos is the Son of God, and God has abandoned him in favor of the Warrior. But it runs deeper still, and this is the reason why Mio hates the Warrior: Cosmos."

"Cosmos?"

"Are you a parrot or a woman? Yes, Cosmos, that poor, miserable soul. A Goddess of control, completely out of control of her own life. Cosmos, who is hated by all, because of the few who love her. Cid loves Cosmos because she is all he has left of Mio. Chaos loves her for this reason, and because they once were truly together. Garland loves her because she reminds him of Sarah, who in turn reminded him of Cosmos, because she is the daughter of Jane, who is descended from the women in whose minds Mio dwelt. And the Warrior loved her. Loved her because in that horrible, war-torn world into which he was born, she was the first beautiful, lovely thing he ever saw. And because he is Cid's son, and she is the likeness of Mio. They love one another because it is coded into them. He is the Hero, and she is the Princess. Their love was inescapable, whereas the love Cosmos and Chaos shared was born of themselves, true and pure while it lasted.

"If you removed the Warrior, who could Chaos hate? Who would Cosmos love? Who would keep the unspeakable truth about Cid Lufaine's life from consuming him? Who would be there to keep them all from turning on or to the Lord Dragon? For this reason the Warrior, who is so basic and elemental a part of their lives and the life of this world, could not take the fall for Mio's crime.

"But to strike at his heart and teach him the pain and fear he had instilled in her, she struck out at someone he loved. She took Kidd, and she made her bear the birthing pains of her new world."

"I don't understand, what did she do?"

"I have been trying to tell you! There was, among those who accompanied the Warrior in his quest to restore the Crystals and defeat Chaos, a woman. A white mage, descended of the Lufaine. Her name was Elena, or Elen, as she was called. She loved the Warrior of Light, and when the time came to slay Chaos, she alone was reluctant. For stopping him would undo everything they had ever done. Time itself would bend back to the way it had been before Chaos' anguish and rage had created the Time Loop. In short, she would never have even known the Warrior. But the Warrior loved the world, and wanted to save it. So for him, she aided in his quest. When Chaos died, Mio struck.

"Her Sleep spell reached out across all worlds and all times, and plunged them into the Dream of Cid Lufaine. Namine's penance became Mio's sin, and she thrust all below to sleep, to save the man she loved. All, that is, except for Elena the White Mage. Mio confronted her, calling her Kidd, and on her shoulders she placed the burden of your world. She mocked her pain, and explained that, because the girl had tried to take away the ones she loved, she would sever her from the man she loved, and in her new world, he would never know her.

"Within the dream, Cosmos has removed the Warrior's memories of his quest to defeat Chaos, and more specifically, of the woman he loved. The Sleep Spell for him began just as Chaos was dying, or just as he had escaped World B.

"And Mio abandoned Raem. She bound Namine to him and left him guarding Garland's physical body. Then she descended into the place in this Dream that represents The Void. There she found one Gogo, who was banished there by Cosmos for mimicking the Warrior and nearly awakening his memories. Mio abandoned her name and became merely the _o_ at the end of Gogo. She followed Chaos and The Liar to the Unthrone of Enuo. They took the Cloud of Darkness and ExDeath back to Castle Chaos, and Gogo consumed Enuo. The being who will arrive here today calls itself _Goegnuo_. Gog hailing from Gogo, who provides the body, and Enu from Enuo, who has provided his great power in the place of Raem's. The o is still Mio, who is the driving will and personality, and who will ultimately manifest herself.

"The Scholar moves from within Cosmos' body to slay Cid Lufaine and take the Crystal of Absolute Virtue for himself. You must ensure that Mio is there at that moment."

"We will be granting Mio Absolute Virtue?"

"No. I believe you and the Man in Black have already discussed this?"  
>"Yes."<p>

"Excellent. All I ask is an addition: The Warrior of Light must also be in that room at that time."

"Why? You don't mean to give HIM the Crystal?"

"Not at all. Between here and there, you will learn the reason why I desire this of you. Your friend has already asked a pivotal question for your role in all things. Ponder it, and you will discover the reason for many of the things which happen now."

"Here she comes, then?" I asked, hearing something descend the passage I had come by."

"Indeed. Look pretty. Your Mother mustn't be displeased."

The shambling mound of cloth rounded the final corner and appeared before us. It looked like Gogo, inasmuch as Gogo had a look. Cloth here and there was placed, and whatever body beneath lay I did not see. My skin pricked, though, and I knew instantly that this was the force which had mocked us here before. I broke into a cold sweat, wondering if she could recognize me as easily as I did her. Then I realized I didn't recognize her, and would never know had Alfador not explained all this to me.

Mio, for her part, stopped when she saw us. The cloth puffed at the sight of us, and pulsed as she spoke with a strange, distorted voice.

"We were not expecting it would be this easy to find you," She rasped.

"I have chosen to make it easier for you," Alfador said.

"We were not aware you were permitted to make choices."

"You are cheating. Indeed, there have been many cheating in this place. As the rules have been voided, I deemed it licit that I intervene, lest things grow to bore me."

"You will accompany us, then?"

"I will comply with you to an extent," Alfador replied, giving no commitment whatsoever. Then, "I will send this one to hold my place until that time. I trust you will accept these terms, for I will offer none other."

"And should we refuse?"

"Someone else has cheated and let Omega loose down here. It'd be a shame if She broke one of your toys."

"Who is this little girl, that we should accept her?"

"Oh, I think you'll find her plenty interesting."

"Why is that?"

"She's a Kidd."

"Oh?" Mio leaned her fabric face nearer to mine, as if regarding me for the very first time. She went as far as addressing me personally, "Who was he? This Son of Cid you dared to love?"

"He is a strong man, blonde, and fair. When it was required of me to die for our world, he fulfilled the requirement to live."

Mio snorted, "She's a liar. And a poor one at that."

"Oh, I think she's a better liar than you think," Alfador replied.

"So you say, Alfador, so you say. But is not part of lying to avoid even being detected in your lie?"

"Only if you aren't trying to convince someone they already know the truth."

"Hmph. We will take her with us. Who knows? Even this foul creature may yet prove to be of use to us."

"Oh, I believe she is _very_ useful. One last condition, though."

"Altering the bargain?"

"Pray I do not alter it further and all that. She must be permitted to come and go at my discretion. The girl is mine, not yours to keep. Understood?"

"We understand. We do not see how this will make a difference, but if it silences you, we will agree to this. We have much work to do."

"And precious little time to do it. You do know the Scholar moves to wake The Highest first? Rather like pulling needles from a Dark Dragon, I should think."

"We do not care what you think on that matter."

"Very well. Take the girl and be off. I have much to see still."

"Come, worthless protoplasm. We are leaving."

Without so much as a word, I bowed my head and followed. Somehow, I expected there would be little room for questioning Mio on this trip.


	18. Chapter 18 Madness and Sanity

_**CELL PENGUIN, THE PRISON AT SANITY'S EDGE, "HEAVEN/HELL BORDER," WORLD D.**_

_**ONE DAY BEFORE THE PRISON BREAK.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

_**WHISPERS IN THE DARK.**_

The first thing you notice about the Prison at Sanity's Edge is that absolutely painful feeling invoked by the complex's attempt to drive you insane and defy your understanding of how it works. The second thing you notice is the fear in your belly as you wonder how long you will last. The third you notice is that its beauty is only skin deep.

The Prison was designed to drive anyone outside its cells mad in an attempt to guard its own prisoners. No one dares enter it because of that, and none manage to escape for the same reason. Within the cells is another matter entirely, though. In the cells, there is only darkness.

The cells stretch back for much longer than they should, allowing one to walk far enough away from the doors that the light without is visible no more. This isn't saying much, though, as light does not penetrate that crafted darkness. The shadows were likely designed by the Gods to allow the imprisoned nothing more to think about than what they had done. The windows in the doors extant only as a means of further torment.

It was . . . a terrible place. I had thought, when first I was cast into that pitch blackness, that I would be fine. The darkness had all but raised me. In it, Rubicante, Cagnazzo, Barbariccia, Scarmiglione and I had grown. Little things Zemus had kept under his lunar bed, mushrooms he was growing for his own end. I welcomed it, after that, as a rest. A brief respite before the coming storm. Waking from the Scholar's War had left me exhausted, and the shadows would heal me for a time. But then came the shame, the constant mulling over what I had done wrong, and what it was that bothered me about it.

The analysis stretched into my own life, and the nightmares returned. The dreams of the Dwarf Castle, my hand severed and crawling toward the Crystal. The pain of Cecil's sword as it chopped it from my arm. The itching as Zemus' anger fused it to me again. The Tower of Zot, and the constant, giddy uncertainty as to Rosa's impending fate. The cold of the Mist Dragon's breath on my neck. The fires of Damcyan, the cries of Anna, of the Queen, of the monks of Fabul. The horrific chimarae that Lugae had made the King and Queen of Eblan into. All the blood of the blue planet calling out at me, shrieking at me, crying out one word as I tried to hide my naked body as far from them as I could:

_Coward._

Then came the hatred. The bile in the back of my throat as I remembered why I had ever risen against them. The furious longing to punish the people who had taken my father's gifts and used them to slaughter him like a dog. My father, who was like unto a God, and they stole his secrets and left his ruined flesh in the fields for the crows to pick. I thought it was justice, as I am sure Zemus did, to take the airships he had given them and burn their cities to the ground. He gave them magic, and I sicked their soldiers on the mages. He gave them science, magic, knowledge, faith and enlightenment. I took those things and taught them to fear them. I judged them unworthy, and why shouldn't I? Too eager were the men of Baron to prove themselves better than their Crystal bearing brothers. Too eager were the hearts of men to turn against one another. And in the blackness my rage turned toward this dream world.

It seethed in me, like a festering poison. I hated in that eternal night, I hated the Gods, for their blindness in not seeing the bigger picture. I hated the complacency of Heaven, and the self-pity of Hell. I hated the Cids for the disparity in what they had done and what they claimed to do. I hated myself for all the lies I had told. Especially to those who had trusted me so completely. Especially . . . to the flower girl.

And that was when The Prison's true power was made manifest. For then came the happy memories, the good feelings, and they were more painful than all the negative ones combined. I remembered my nephew, who had looked on me without fear. I remembered the forgiveness in Cecil's voice. In his wife's, in Kain's. I remembered it in Edward's eyes, in Rydia's touch, and Edge's mocking laugh. All the lives I had ruined, and they forgave me still. I remembered the friendship I had shared with beings who even now others revile as fiends. The kindness that born and made killers had shown me.

I remembered the Dream. I remembered the happiness I had felt living in my brother's house. I remembered the many starlit nights I would walk with the flower girl in her gardens, and she and I would do not but converse. I remembered the way her hair fell down her face, its rich chestnut curls and the way they felt when she first dozed off on my shoulder. I remembered the softness of her skin, the floral fragrance which accompanied her presence. And when the shadows became cold and bitter, I remembered our final moments together, our last embrace, and the kiss she had planted upon my cheek, and the pressure of her chest against mine as she stood on the edge of her toes to reach it.

In the end, I felt lonely. Isolated, forgotten, and defeated. I could no longer deny it when I realized that I missed even the seductive whispers of Zemus in the back of my head. I caught myself, more than once, craving his guidance, his direction, or even just his voice. And, when at last I was ready to surrender my mind to the sweet release of madness, I heard a loud _clang_.

I crawled on my hands and knees for what felt like days in the night. I bled from them, scabbed, and bled again before I reached the source of the sound. The door to the cell, and below it, Jecht, striking with his fist. _Clang, clang, CLANG._ He seemed to have been trying to break the door down, unaware that the doors were made to strengthen with every attempt to open them.

"Jecht," I called, mustering my voice. It was broken, cracked from much under use. Jecht was here! How had I forgotten that Jecht shared my cell? When had I forgotten that? Had the Prison's madness removed this from my mind? "Jecht, is that really you?"

"Golbez? That you? Can't see a damn thing."

"Oh Gods, I thought I'd never hear anything again."

"That's the damn cell talkin'. Place gets in your head."

"So I've seen."

"'Bout the only thing you'll be seein' in here, that's for damn sure."

"How did you find the door?"

"I was thinkin': they're all gonna die, aren't they?"

"Who?"

"Everyone. When Cid Lufaine dies, everyone goes with Him."

"Yes, that's true."

"But they'll die before that, won't they?"

"Chaos plans to strike at the heart of Heaven. I assume He intends to kill His Father. One way or another, everyone will die during that battle."

"Is it worth it? I mean, we have them here. Our families, y'know?"

"Yes, we do, but-,"

"But then I thought: we're all gonna die someday. And I want to see him one more time before that."

"You could see him any time you want to in Heaven," I said, for the sake of argument.

"But I want to see him with MY eyes. Not in my dreams. I want to see my own boy with my own eyes one last time, before he or I die. There's so much I did wrong, Golbez. So much stuff I done goofed up. I can't undo all that. Even if I DID undo it, I still DID it. Maybe I can make up fer it, maybe not. But I tell you the truth: I don't care about Chaos' offer to set things right. I know, I know, my part in all that is crucial an' all, but I really don't care. I just want to see my son one last time." He was quiet for a second, then, in plain honesty, he asked me, "Will I?"

As his friend, I wanted to comfort him. As someone he trusted, I should have been truthful. As someone he relied on, I ought to have warned him that I could never know that. I wasn't even sure if he was ALIVE in the world above. That was the risk we ALL took. But I pulled myself to sit next to where he then slumped against the door and looked out into that endless darkness and thought to myself, "what harm could a little hope do?" So I said, "You will, Jecht. You will."

"Then I can bear this a little longer," he said. "I'll stay here and keep bangin' so you can find me again."

"Again?"

"Someone's gotta go rally the troops, right? An' yer the fearless leader."

"So you say. How do you know I won't get lost?"

"I JUST said I'd keep bangin' this damn door, didn't I? Now go on, git!" He started tapping the door nervously, "Before I lose my nerve."

"Thank you," I said, rising to my feet. "Jecht, I-,"

"Nuh-uh, buddy," He barked, "I don't need one of your speeches. Not today."

"Right." That was the last thing I said to him before striding back into the abyss. I walked a long time, stopping occasionally to make certain that the clanging I heard was Jecht's fist against the door, and not my armor rattling. I had no idea where I was going, just walking blind.

Then I heard the sobbing. It was feminine, soft, like a wilted flower, but wet and sickly as well, prone to interruption by heaving coughs. I drew near the source of the sound and felt the floor grow slick beneath my boots. I reached down and found a tattered scrap of cloth in something wet. There were others as well, leading toward the source.

If I had had any doubts as to who was crying, they were quickly quelled by a voice groaning, "Stay away from me!" It was a wretched wail, and it was coming from Kuja. "Don't LOOK at me!"

"Kuja?" I asked, more for his benefit than my own, "Kuja, it's me: Golbez."

"Heehaheeha," he replied with some manner of demented laugh. "Gol Beza, Selkie king? Nonononononono I don't want the fly in my flesh. I'm rotting, but not yet!"

"Kuja, that's the Prison talking. It doesn't drive you mad outwardly, it weakens you inwardly. Pull it together."

"I'm not crazy, Theodor. That's just about the only thing I'm not."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm repulsive. I'm vile, and worst of all, I'm common."

"I would not-,"

"I don't give a damn what you think. I went all the way to the Crystal of Absolute Virtue. The Crystal that floats INSIDE Cid Lufaine's body, and I _touched_ it. I touched the Heart of God, Theodor. You can't understand that."

"Then why are you common?"

"I was going to smash it. I was going to end it all."

"But you didn't."

"I was scared. I was weak and afraid, just like the rest of them. What if that was a dream, too, Theodor? What if it just keeps going on like this forever? What if it is turtles all the way up and all the way down? I should have broken it then. If I had broken God's Heart, we all would be at rest."

"You're not making sense."

"Yes I am. You're just too afraid to acknowledge that."

"And our shared fear makes you common?"

"No, my tail makes me common. My damn tail."

"Relatively few hominids have tails."

"I don't give a damn!" Kuja roared, rising to his knees. "The tail is something they all had. It's a reminder of the fact that I'm just another mass-produced vessel, and that I was an outdated model at that!"

"As Genomes go, you look very different from the production line."

"Don't you give me that!" He screamed, getting to his feet and striking out at me. "You know! You know as well as I do!"

"Know what?" I asked, sidestepping the blow. It was more for his good than mine. He was probably weak from bloodloss, and my armor was solid mythril.

"You know the truth."

"That you lied about not remembering what happened in the Crystal World? I assumed, yes."

"You know why I was allowed into the Crystal World, why I was permitted to reach the Crystal of Absolute Virtue. You know who and what I am."

"No, but I can hazard a guess."

"Don't toy with me Golbez."

"I assure you I won't. The Crystal of Absolute Virtue permitted you access to its physical realm and proximity for one reason and one alone. One I never could have solved before all of this, but now I think I begin to understand. Kuja, what does that mean in Terran?"

"It doesn't."

"Of course not. It's an error. The system that made you was flawed. By that time the G.A.R.L.A.N.D. system had corrupted and all of Garland the man had fully deteriorated into Chaos the God. His echoes built you. When they made you, they made you mortal. They also erred in naming you."

"JUST SAY IT!"

"You were supposed to be Cid, not Kuja."

"And you know this because?"

"Because the Lunarian word for Cid is KluYa. KluYa and Kuja are homonyms. You, Kuja, were created in the likeness of God. That is the reason the Crystal allowed you to approach it, to touch it, and even harm it. It thought it belonged to you. It mistook you for Cid Lufaine." I stepped back in surprise by this realization. "Of course, though! It makes sense. Look at you! Consider how much you and the Warrior look alike, and how much Alfador says he looks like Cid did. But G.A.R.L.A.N.D. couldn't make you exactly the same. He probably did not even consciously realize what he was doing. At that point the System had taken control, and Garland's memories were dying within."

"You see? Sephiroth taunted Cloud for being a puppet and a clone, but I really am that."

"And this makes you normal?"

"Would being a failure truly be any better? I am an abomination. An aberration. A deviation from what is right, as is Life itself."

"Let it go, Kuja."

"What?"

"Let it go. Walk away from it. What good does it do you, now, to wallow in agony at the memory of almost destroying all worlds? What does it profit you, to bemoan the fact that you are a product of mass cloning? That you were created, accidentally or otherwise, in the image of a God so long forgotten that even the source of His power no longer recognizes Him? Let. It. Go."

"You want me to just walk away from it? What was the meaning of my entire LIFE, Golbez? Even my attempt to destroy the world was another toy in Chaos' chest! No matter what I do, I am bound to Them! Why should I go back up there? Nothing up there will free me from Them!"

"You're wrong," I answered, stepping nearer. "Going up there will undo all Their works. Chaos' wrath, Cid's weakness, Garland's petty quest for vengeance on a world he never loved. All of these things you will affront by aiding in this great work of freeing the sleepers from their chains. Break free of this cell with me, Kuja, and you will be a better man than any of them."

"I can't! I can't just let it go, Theodor! I tried! I tried pulling all of the fur off of it, I tried hiding it, I tried cutting it off, but I just can't do it!"

"Your tail, you mean."

"The symbol of it all."

"No, Kuja. No. It is a tail, and nothing more. The symbolism exists only inside you."

"Big words from a man who has no-,"

"I HAVE EVERY IDEA!" I snarled, towering over him, hands open like a demon's claws. He shrieked, and shrunk back to the floor. "We are all of us echoes of the Gods, and no one can be sure how much of that is real and how much of it is this damn Dream talking. But I will NOT be determined by what someone else wrote down. I am not the son of Kluya, nor Zemus' toy, nor Cecil's brother, nor Golbez nor Theodor. Not if it means reading from another man's book. I am my own cup, and I runneth o'er. RISE, Kuja, RISE! Rise up from this floor and hold your head up high! You held the Crystal of God in your hands! RISE from this pathetic dust or so help me I shall crush you here and now so completely that no God in Heaven or Hell shall ever restore you!"

"Help me," he whispered. At last a hand stretched out, and I took it, pulling Kuja upward again.

"Go now. Follow the sound of Jecht's fists against the door. When you get there, bang upon it with him. I shall come with the Cloud of Darkness."

"What then?"

"Then we shall emerge from this cocoon, and prove to the Gods that sealing us up here was not so good an idea."

"Vincent won't be coming?"

"Even if Mr. Valentine's body arrives, it is doubtful that his soul shall."

"I see. Golbez, I-," he stammered.

"Say nothing more. Go, I must find yet the Cloud of Darkness."

I strode again into the deep, feeling more confident. My breast was full of a might I had not imagined earlier that day. The clouds of evil were dispelling, and my head seemed to be clearing. I felt as though I really could remove the door of our cell and free us on our own. That should have been my first sign.

"You're here," called a voice. "I wondered if you would come."

"Famfrit? Is that you?"

"Do not call us that. We are ashamed of it."

"We? What became of I?"

"We are ashamed of that, too. We have betrayed Ex-Death. We regret to inform you that we cannot continue with you any further."

My stomach clenched at her words. I could not see her, and every time she spoke, I could not tell whence she was speaking to me. She had begun to relapse, and if she returned to Ex-Death, much of our efforts would fail. I had to persuade her, to calm her if I could. Failing that . . .

"You are ashamed? You regret? These are not the words of The Cloud of Darkness."

"I use them so that you understand."

"You use them because you feel. You feel like you are betraying Ex-Death because you loved him."

"We do not love!"

"Yet you said "I use them" and not, "we"! You DID love him, and you obviously are torn over him and your budding affections for this man from your dream!"

"We do not dream!"

"But YOU do."

"I-we, shut up! We . . . we cannot do this!"

"Yes you can," I said, reaching out and, surprisingly catching hold of her body. "You can do this."

She embraced me, sobbing, "We don't want to, we don't want to! We don't know what I want."

"You're confused. That's normal. Love is confusing."

"What do you know of love? You've never been in love. Kuja told me."

"I . . . I know. I know about love."

"What is love, Golbez? Is it this gnawing, horrible feeling in my-our stomach?"

"That is a part of it. That can be anxiety, or worry. But love is more than that."

"More complicated?"

"More primal. Love is the most basic of all emotions. I grew up knowing hatred, and I tell you that hate requires fuel, like a fire. But love is as the wind, or the earth. It is always, and will forever be."

"Who have you ever loved? You, who burned kingdoms to the ground?"

"Who are you to judge? You, who devoured worlds before I was ever born. I have loved, and that is what matters. You love, and that is what matters. Love is what drives us all."

"Who do you think of, when you ask that question, warlock? When you ask us what we would do for love? Who do you really think of? Who are you really asking?"

"Famfrit?"

"I have smelled her. I smelled her on you before we entered the cell. You dream of flowers. You labor for a world full of them, but this is not the dream of an iron-clad, dragon born man of the night. No, this is not your dream, Golbez."

"This is my dream. It is yours as well."

"No, my dream was a series of images leading me to a man who . . . fascinates me. But you? Who do you dream of? This world you seek is the dream of a woman of flowers. You labor incessantly for her. That is what this is. You don't care about the World Full of Flowers, do you? You care about the Flower Girl."

" . . . Yes . . ."

"Then . . . what is the point?"

"What?"

"You cannot ever have her."

I flinched, "I . . . know."

"Then why do you break your back to liberate us from this world? This Dream is the only place you could ever hope to have her."

"And even here I will never have her."

"Then, why?"

"Because I must."

"You must create a world for a woman who will never be yours? You know that even if you could make her love you, she could never be yours."

"I know! I know, but I must."

"I do not understand. The world above will hate you. You will die alone and hated. Why do you do this?"

"Because I must!"

"But what does that MEAN Golbez? What does that MEAN?"

"It hurts, don't you see? It will always hurt, whether I am here, or up there. I will always suffer pain, but to know that pain isn't real? To know that I FEEL pain, but that my pain isn't real? That's not good enough for me. I cannot abide a world of lies. My entire life was a lie, Famfrit. I will not die sleeping quietly, dreaming of another lie."

"Even if the lie is more pleasant?"

"Yes, even if it is more pleasant. Real pain is worth more to me than all the pretend pleasure I can have. And that is love."

"What has that to do with love?"

"Everything."

"I don't understand."

"And you won't."

"Why?"

"Because," I said, caressing the side of her head, "You're still trying to understand love up here." My hand slid down to rest below her collar bone, above her left breast, and I said, "You must learn to understand love from here."

"What does that mean?"

"Must I make it plain to you? Love is felt, not understood."


	19. Chapter 19 Reality and Fantasy

_**SACRED NEBULA, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**AFTER THE PRISON BREAK AT SANITY'S EDGE.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

We sat in a lovely café by the side of a gold paved street in the Holy City as we conversed. I was uneasy, because this was the first time Goegnuo had deigned to speak to me. We had covered all the distance from The Mouth to this point in absolute silence. They had designated the place for our conversation by gesturing toward the neon sign which read "Leabreau's." I was unfamiliar with it, but one look at the garish décor within and both Goegnuo and I decided that we would be eating outside.

"We trust that Alfador has informed you as to who we are," Goegnuo said, "but he has been less than informative as to who you are. Tell us, and do not lie, or we shall be . . . cross with you."

"Actually, Alfador told me very little. You know how he is. Chesire cat and all, it's a pain to be in his debt, and when you are, he rarely informs. It's all "Aerith do this," and "Aerith do that," and if you don't, well, let's say he becomes a bit more than cross."

"If you mean to say you are not afraid of us, we are amused. We know you fear us. We can feel it on your breath," they jeered, leaning over the table, as a scarf uncoiled itself from somewhere in their mass and cuffed the bottom of my chin.

"Fear? Why does it all have to be fear? I just want to get to know you. We only fear what we don't understand and all that."

"Some things are more terrifying when you know what they are. Which is undoubtedly why Alfador told you who we are. It would be unlike him not to tell you anything."

"But you said it yourself: it's unlike him to meddle."

"And it is even less like him to not _try_ to meddle without getting caught. He loves to interfere. You will find, scattered across the multiverse, that there is always someone like Alfador. Some innocuous animal who magically talks, and happens to know a bit more than it should."

"Who would punish him if he got caught, though?"

Goegnuo shifted uncomfortably in their seat. "There are _old things_ which even Alfador cannot provoke."

"Like Omega and Shinryu?"

"No, stupid girl. Omega and Shinryu are _new things._"

"But they've been around since before the world began!"

"And? This world is new."

"Not _this_ world. The _real_ world."

"This world seems fairly real."

I hesitated, realizing how stupid I had been to reveal that I knew the world was a dream. "You know I know."

"Like we said, it would be stupid of Alfador to send you to us without telling you."

"Fine."

"Now, as we asked: You know what we are, it is only fair that we know the same, wouldn't you agree?"

"I'm a Cetra. I was martyred to cast Holy."

"Ah, yes. We remember your world."

"You do?"

"Yes, we dwelled in the mind of a Shera, briefly. We chewed on a few of her memories. Mostly those about Rocket Safety. Nothing important, we promise."

If it was a test to see if I would react, I hope to say that I passed. I did not so much as blink when she said it, no matter how much I wanted to slap her. I only smiled politely and said, "I've never heard of her."

"No? What a pity."

"Oh? Did something noteworthy happen to her?"

"Nothing noteworthy happens to any of you. This is your problem. The problem with all of you. You all walk in our shadows, the shadows of our family and us. You are just echoes of the War of the Lufaine. Yet you all seem to think you're real, that you feel, that you matter. We find it laughable."

"You don't think we're real? But didn't you see us all up there in the real world?"

"The real world? Which is that? There are many worlds out there, pumpkin, and we do not believe many of them are real in the sense which we use."

"If we aren't real, and we are less than you, then why did you deign to fuse yourself to so many of us?"

"A man eats cattle, and never once does he consider them his equals."

"A cow does not show signs of similarity to a man."

"It most certainly does. Cows birth their children like men do, their babes suckle at the teat, and they waste an inordinate amount of their lives doing nothing. Oh, there is much more similarity between man and livestock than you appreciate."

"Then there is great similarity between you and I."

"Absolutely. But do not mistake: We are the man, and you are the cow. That is indisputable. Alfador claimed you are a Kidd. Which means you're nothing but a pathetic imitation of me. Your pain is only so that you can understand my pain. Your sacrifices are meaningless, until I give them meaning."

"My pain is my own."

"Foolish bitch," Goegnuo hissed, her wraps rising like the hackles of a cat. "Nothing is yours. Everything in this world is ours, and we command it. Observe." She pointed to my left breast, and shriveled it, then the right. Then, all my skin, and my hair greyed, lengthened, and fell out. As my flesh fell out of my body, she laughed, "If you feel pain, it was because we felt it, and we permitted that you approach our divinity." She sighed, and all my body was restored. "Nothing is yours."

"My pain is mine."

"No, but very soon it will be greatened," she stated, a threat as flat as a blade.

"Very well. I am a Kidd, then, as you have said."

"But you lie to us. We do not believe you are a Kidd for the reason you say you are."

"Then enlighten me, as you seem so much more informed than I."

"There are no Gods, stupid beast. We are the most divine and powerful being in any world, and even we have our limitations."

"Alfador knows," I retorted.

"Do not put so much stock in that pussy," she warned, "Alfador knows things, perhaps, but only by a divine fluke. He is, otherwise, broken. We do not believe you truly are a Kidd. At least, not simply that."

"Educate me, then."

"We shall, and when we conclude, you shall know why, and perhaps you will wish that you had not so flippantly chosen our knowledge." Goegnuo slouched back in her chair and began, "There are _old things_ which existed before. Before The Void, and before the world. They do not largely concern themselves with these worlds, as they are largely unaware of them. At some point, the old things created _something._ For the sake of your mind, I will call this something the First God. Whether it really was a God or not is irrelevant. We believe it was, though, as this First God created the Old Gods.

"They have names. We have discovered these names through much pain and suffering, and through leaving behind any touch with the understanding of reality. The First God was called by its creations "Benson." The Old Gods were six in number. Ray Jack, the Knight, Kaliva, the Wizard, Barusa, the Beast, Toby, the Thief, Claire, the Princess, and the Dragon.

"The Lord Dragon, who was their foe at first, but who The First God had created alongside them, who has hunted for Omega ever since. Omega is another one of those Old Gods. We are not sure if Omega began when the six did, or if it came after. Omega has a shadow, a reflection, a mirror if you will."

"Alfador?"

"You are perhaps not as stupid as we thought. Alfador is the Beast remnant of Alpha Weapon. Omega and Alpha Weapon have existed for a very long time, and are the last of the Old Gods. Save, of course, the First New God, who is an Old God only by association. In other worlds there are other Old Gods who stem from other old things, but we speak only of those Old Gods associated with the worlds you know, and the worlds we have connected in this Dream."

"Who is the other Old God?"

"Why, Cid Lufaine, of course. The Crystal of Absolute Virtue that rests within him is as ancient and powerful and elemental as the strength of the Old Gods. Though he is younger, indeed, than some of the New Gods, he is an Old God because his power is as old as the others."

"New Gods? Are they-?"

"The Gods you worship in this dream? Yes, for the most part, the Gods you worship here are what we call the New Gods. The likes of Faram, Promathia, Bahamut, Ramuh, and so on are New Gods, for they are younger than the Old Gods. In that sense, the wisest of your kind are absolute fools, for they wonder if there are Gods of any sort without this Dream's walls."

"And are there?"

"That depends entirely on what you consider to be a God, child."

"Fair enough. You said that most of the Gods here are New Gods. Which ones aren't?"

"Chaos and Cosmos, of course. They are a generation younger, still, than the New Gods."

"Even though they were spawned by the Old Gods?"

"Were they? Chaos was born when Cid Lufaine's power as a God had not yet been awakened by Shinryu, and Cosmos is a copy of us before we had ever been anything more than a woman. They are the products of man."

"But they were given Godhood by the Old Gods."

"After the creation of the New Gods. And here in is the other failing of the wise men of your worlds. Cid would see this immediately, but his echoes are all too faded to realize that the words he inscribed in this city are true: Gods creating Gods."

"This is a great amount of creation."

"And Alfador is behind it. Or rather, we believe he was. Omega Weapon consumes and destroys the worlds, so we believe that Alpha Weapon created them."

"And what are your designs for Alpha Weapon?"

"What are Alpha Weapon's designs for us? Tell us, and we will tell you."

"I haven't the slightest idea what Alfador wants for you."

"Of course not. Because we have been lying to you."

"Lying?"

"Old Gods? Old things? New Gods? Why would you believe any of that is true?"

"Well, I-," I said, then frowned. "It makes as much sense as anything."

"There is only one God, and we are it."

"And neither Cid nor Shinryu are Gods?"

"Perhaps. You are very slow, aren't you? Shinryu is no God. He and all the Old Gods are just Echoes of Cid Lufaine and us."

"But isn't it odd that there was once a princess named Claire and now there's a woman named Claire down here?"

"There has been more than one Paul, but that does not mean that Paul is an Order. There's more than on Gilgamesh, but one is his son, and the other the father. His narcissism does not make any difference in the cosmic balance of things. Do not trouble yourself with the names of the Old Gods, child."

"Why not? You went through pains to learn them."

"Yes, because we desired to read the entire book. The Old Gods are not real. They're only echoes."

"But they came before you?"

"Are you so stupid? A ripple starts in the middle of the pond and moves in all directions. Cidian Lief and his poor wife Mio are the only reality. They had a lovely baby boy, and a romance which is the vibrant radiance before which all other love stories pale. The Old Gods were just poor precursors to the majesty, to the beauty, to the _reality_ which was Cid and Mio. Why did Alfador burden us with someone like you? You are so stupid. Can't you get it through that imaginary little skull of yours? Everything _before_ and _after_ Cid and Us, and we do mean _everything _is just a crude echo of what we were.

"We were real, and that is the difference between Kidd and us. Every Kidd has loved our Son, and brought catastrophe, because they are a ruinous and pitiable attempt at remaking the only real, pure, true, and good thing in the history of eternity. _That_ is why Lufenia crumbled. We watched it fall within the minds of other women, and always they tried to be us, and failed. You're _all_ Kidds, don't you see? All women are just pathetic attempts at recreating Us, and for that you all shall fail."

"You must forgive me, I am just a child, and you are leaps and bounds beyond me." I said, stunned by her ego. This was the woman who had put all of us in this prison, and so it was certain she was cunning, and doubtless she was intelligent, but what she was saying was breathtaking in its insanity. Her self-centered view of the universe was so completely revolting it almost looped around to being beautiful.

"Then permit us to teach you the lesson we have been teaching you, little girl. Once upon a time maybe there were Old Gods, and maybe there weren't. Maybe Alfador is a fragment of one of those Old Gods, or maybe he is a pussy cat who has been working very hard to save the lady who used to scratch his back. Maybe Shinryu and our Husband are great and powerful deities who could rend reality between them, or maybe they are an over grown lizard and an old man in a moogle-skin coat. Maybe your Scholar is right, and there are no Gods, maybe not. He is almost right, that nothing is real. He just does not understand the scope of those words.

"It matters not. _We_ determine what is real. _We_ are in charge here, and _WE_ say that the pain you feel is nothing more than a pathetic little aftershock of our agony. You cannot begin to know. You cannot begin to fathom it. The pain of a woman who in one day, lost her husband, her son, and her life. Who lost these things to a cheap imitation of herself. Who saw THE WORLD ITSELF crumble to pieces. Who saw nations rise and fall in their vain attempts at recapturing the glory of her former days. Who saw a wizened old man prophesy of the coming of a murderer who would kill her lost husband and son. Who suffered the pain of a thousand worlds she traversed, as they all shrieked the same dying words she had. Who, after physical, emotional, and spiritual deterioration discovered that her husband and son had completely abandoned her in favor of that cheap imitation. That her very husband had created the monster who would slay their son.

"Twenty thousand years we have been alive. Longer than even our Husband, now. We have wandered far and wide and all we have seen is men and women dying for one another in repetition of Our Tragedy. Raem, Namine, Schala, Kidd and all the rest of the horrors we have seen have convinced us of this truth, and in that horrific, isolated and solitary moment in which we at last perceived that the only real thing the world was going to end forever because our own husband, the only real man, _wanted_ it to, we knew pain. We knew sorrow. We knew what it meant to have your heart-broken. Twenty thousand years we waited, and twenty thousand years we hoped, only for him to cast it away for the falsehoods, the imitations, the lies that are.

"So do not tell us your pain is your own. Your pain is because we permit it. We permit you to have pain, when we should have ended it all long ago. We created this world, and all the so-called pain you so-called creatures have felt within it out of the kindness of our heart. This was the last chance our traitorous husband had to forsake you miserable, awful, horrid shadows and come back to us, and back to reality. His time is nearing an end, though, because you pathetic, vile, disgusting creatures are conspiring to kill him and our son. And when you do, we will kill you all.

"So do not come to us, with your crocodile's tears, with your idle prattling, with your allegedly broken hearts. Do not say to us that you have ever felt pain, for you are not real, and you cannot know what reality is, and therefore what real pain is. You are spineless, forsaken abominations, and your days are numbered. We cannot stand to see your continued echoes of our long-lost happiness, and we will put you out of our misery."

I was breathing heavily when she stopped. My face was red, and my knuckles white. Mad or no, what she was saying was so . . . so . . . even though I could not see her face, I knew that beneath the robes she was smirking at me. All I wanted to do was wipe that smile from her face. So I did something stupid. I lashed out at her in the only way I knew how to hurt her.

"We're all fake are we? I don't think even you believe that."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're scared of us. You're scared of what we are going to do to your husband and child. That Warrior has stalked your every step. You're terrified of what he'll do if he ever catches you. Because if they can die, why not you? Fake? Oh, no, the only thing fake here, Goegnuo, is your bravado. The threat of this Warrior is all too real, isn't it?"

She snorted. "What he will do if he catches us? No, no, no, you stupid girl. We have orchestrated everything, we have wandered all these worlds and built this one to ensure that we are in control when we meet him. It is him who must fear what will happen if we ever catch him. And we have already caught him . . . Perhaps a demonstration is in order?" She reached out and motioned for the waiter to come over.

The waiter, a young man with neon yellow hair and a name-tag which said "My Name Is Maqui" on his breast, cheerfully walked over to where we sat. With a big, bright smile, he asked, "How may I help you today?"

Goegnuo shrugged, then lowered her arm. As she did, Maqui reached for his throat. He made a terrible gagging sound, then fell down to the ground. His muscles spasmed for a minute, his eyes bulged, and blood bubbled up out of the corners of his mouth. Then, suddenly, he went limp.

"What did you do?" I asked, horrified.

"We strangled him in his sleep."

"You killed him?"

"You could say that. He slept in World C, and we have ended the support to the life of his body in that World. So yes, we killed him. Inasmuch as he was alive."

"But he was alive! You murdered him!"

"We kept him alive for an indefinite amount of time, and now we have withdrawn our charity. He was part of the problem which will seek to kill our husband."

"What proof of that could you possibly have?"

"He was one of you. That is proof enough."

"That's, that's-!"

"That's what we are teaching you," Goegnuo said, pointing to the man with the red Mohawk, the blue-haired boy, and Lebreau, the hostess. One by one they fell and died in the same painful way Maqui just had. "We do not fear your petty Warrior, because he is in Our World now, and here we do as we please. You look so surprised. This is not the first time we have removed someone from the Dream to make a point."

"No," I said slowly, trying to regain my composure. "No, it isn't. Alfador said you kept one out of the Dream. You left a Kidd behind."

"We did indeed."

"How, though? How did you design a spell to target everyone and then exclude one single girl?"

"We did not. We agree that it is easier to put everyone to sleep in one go than to design a spell to target all save one."

"So how did you do it?"

"In battle, when a monster casts a sleep spell, what is the easiest way to wake the afflicted?"

"Well, you-."

"Precisely. We hurt her with someone who loved her."


	20. Chapter 20 Curses and Miracles

_**THE BURNING WASTES, "HELL," WORLD D.**_

_**ONE DAY AFTER THE PRISON BREAK.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

Freedom had never been so dull. We had waited on the Burning Wastes some two days. While perhaps this does not sound so bad to you, reader, you have never shared a camp with Kefka and Mateus. Allow me to assure you that it is unbelievable to see men of such unrepentant wickedness fuss at the tangles in their hair every morning. More, still, to hear Ultimecia complain of the smell. It was _HELL_, of course it reeked of brimstone!

The third day began with a ruckus and pushed me near to breaking. Kuja had raised an uproar in camp after Kefka had taken all of his make-up and shoved it in his face in one go. All it took was a single spell from any of us and we'd have torn one another limb from limb.

But the day would yet prove to be stranger, still. As we waited for orders, for Vincent to return, we were visited several times more. The first of these visits was from a shambling mass of clothes and scarves. The infamous Goegnuo. We had seen it during the escape from the Prison at Sanity's Edge. We had seen much there, truly. Jecht and I had put on frightening faces for the tattered remains of Serah Farron's soul, as well as Gilgamesh's son, Benjamin, who I was to understand was in our pocket, Arazlam Durai, and Cuore of the Maenad. It had been eventful.

The Cloud of Darkness informed me that Goegnuo had been created the day that The Liar had come to remove both her and Ex-Death from The Void. It had been Gogo, and had consumed Enuo. Only a select few were aware that it was truly Mio and Gogo who had consumed Enuo for power. This same being had come to speak to us today, unaccompanied, while our master was away.

"Good . . . day is it? Good afternoon, Children of Chaos, we are pleased to see you all in good health."

"You'd better start walkin', rag doll," Jecht snarled, "I ain't in the mood for you."

"We don't care. What could you hope to do? Cut us down? Cut what down? Blow us away? Blow what away? We are not here for you."

"Why you dirty, rotten, little-," he growled, reaching for his sword.

"Jecht!" I cautioned. When I turned back toward Goegnuo, she was already near to me.

"Wise boy," she purred. "You always were. We can see what she sees in you. You are a decent little echo, we confess. Now do not disappoint us, and stand aside."

"Of course," I said, bowing and stepping out of the way, letting her pass me to where Ex-Death stood with his arm and cape around the Cloud of Darkness' waist. She had a leg seductively resting in front of him, and her arms along his body. It was strange, considering how sexless and loveless their relationship was.

"Hello again, escapees."

"We missed you," Ex-Death snorted, stepping forward, releasing the Cloud and opening his arms.

Goegnuo slapped him so hard he fell to the ground. Which was impressive, since no hand was visible at all. "You do not touch us. You deserted us."

"You desired it."

"We did, but you still must be punished."

"We only live to serve you. Isn't that right Cloud?"

"We only live to serve you, master."

"Yet here you are, with those sworn to Chaos."  
>"Ah, you understand the reason for that."<p>

"Do we?"

"You were present when the Liar came for us."

"Were we, now? We have no time for this. You two must accompany us. We have a village to ransack."

"A village? What of the world? We long to plunge it into the Void."

"In due time we shall attend to that. For now, large things begin with small ideas."

Ex-Death got to his feet and motioned for the Cloud of Darkness to follow him. Goegnuo led them out of camp and into the distance. The Cloud cast a glance my way as they left. I could not tell if it was pleading or apologetic. I . . . am not certain which prospect terrifies me more.

Chewing the way she looked back at me for perhaps the thousandth time, I failed to realize that Vincent Valentine had at last entered into our camp. The others alerted me with their movements. I looked up too late to show respect, and respect was in order.

As of the conclusion of the Scholar's Cycle, as we would come to term it, Chaos had forfeited Garland's body temporarily. He was, instead, inhabiting the body of Vincent Valentine, and therefore, this Vincent WAS Chaos, our rightful God, and the one to whom we should bow. Except, of course, that I had failed to do so in time.

He did not grant me time to correct myself. "Golbez," he said vermillion cape flowing behind him, "One born of the Dragon's Corpse. You dare disrespect your liberator and God?"

Ever one step ahead, and extremely capable of skipping several in case it seems I might fall behind, I had chosen my words before he had. "Absolutely." He moved to strike me, and I sidestepped, but only just. "Are you surprised my Lord? That one who serves the God of Discord should himself act discordantly? That one who is bound to the God of Chaos should lash out chaotically?" I punctuated this comment with an attempt to strike him, only for him to catch my fist in his hand.

Vincent Valentine never had this manner of power. It was Chaos' might which made him so. As he clenched my mailed fist, though, I was not so much concerned with that. Chaos off-hand came to strike again, but I had already taken the advantage. This was the point I wanted to make. My spiked knee had risen to stop just before his groin and my hand caught his. If he pushed forward, my armor would prove my point, but if he allowed me to push him, he would be humiliated before his men. I am weaker and slower than Chaos, but I am nothing, if not able to outthink him.

"You will pay for your disrespect," he snarled.

"Yield," I insisted, "and I will surrender to your will."

"You really want to oppose me here and now? I'm surprised. I didn't think you had it in you. This hardly seems an advantageous time for you."

"And it seems less so for you. Yield, and I will surrender to you. You cannot win without humiliation. Where would your plans for conquest be if it got out that someone as weak as a half-breed Lunarian got the better of Chaos' personal Avatar?"

"Fine," he snorted, releasing my hand and stepping backward. When he did, I bowed before him. "But know this isn't over."

"Is it ever?" I asked the dirt as he sank his bootheel into my neck.

"This will sound peculiar, under the circumstances," Valentine said, turning to the onlookers, "But at the moment, Mr. Harvey will be staying here. I have it on good record that someone else is coming to meet him today, as did Gogo come for our little Voidlings. Understand, however, that while I grant you all the illusion of freedom from time to time, you are all still mine. Wholly, and completely, and truly mine." He kicked at my chest. "That includes you. When the worlds are lost and ash are the Gods and all who have ever wrong us are more than gone and I have given you all the desire of your hearts, yet will you be mine."

"It is my pleasure to learn this, My Lord. I cannot wait for you to give us our hearts' desire the way you did The Liar."

"The Liar got precisely what he wanted. He just didn't live long enough to see it."

"Surely you are not so dense?"

"Are you surprised that the God of Chaos should interpret reality differently from the way it allegedly happened?"

"Believe me, Lord God, when I say that I am only too aware of your ability to see things in a way that differs from how they are."

What Chaos said next I am not sure. Between the pain of my skull being driven into my helmet which, in turn, was being smashed into the ground with more force than Vincent Valentine's body could exert, and the fury with which He shouted it, it was a little difficult to determine. I believe, though, that I heard the word "Luseyhid," which, as I recall, was the modern Lufenian word for Scientist, or, and I am only making a wild guess, 'Cid'.

When I was able to gather my senses again, the others had already gone. There was no sign of Chaos, his followers, or those I had turned against him. No doubt they had gone back to what was left of Castle Chaos to reunite His followers for the coming war. That is not, however, to say I was alone.

Who I saw chilled my blood. My skin broke into a cold sweat, my stomach turned and my heart began to beat faster. A purple robe, like that of a Black Mage, with a White Mage's red trim. A pair of sunglasses and a long white beard. A sage, but not just any, no, the shades belonged to one man alone.

"Tellah," I said.

"Meteor," he responded.

The spell connected before I had time to react. The heat, the weight, the speed were all more intense than I recalled. It had been a long time since I had been slow enough to let someone hit me with a spell like that. I had thought myself a wiser and more humble man. I had thought wrong.

"T-Tellah!" I called, hoping he'd let me speak.

"METEOR!" He did not. The weight and heat was excruciating, and it occurred to me that here, in Hell, in the Dream, Tellah had infinite stamina and infinite magic, and I had eternal life and not infinite defense. He could literally pummel me here in this spot forever, and to be honest, I cannot say that I would deserve less than this. This was the Hell I had waited for my entire life.

"TELLAH!" I shouted, breaking free once more. Reflect would do nothing, nor blink, nor any spell I could think of. I could spam Shell, but that wouldn't do much to the armor-piercing fury Tellah was sending after me.

"METEOR!" He roared. Another one, and this time I almost welcomed it.

But there are times when the flesh recoils from what the heart desires, and so I did what any coward would. I cast Warp and emerged behind Tellah. I could think of no better way to stop him than to pin him to myself, so I wrapped my arms around him.

"Fire another and it will hit you, too."

"You think I care? I died trying to hurt you. What's a little pain compared to that?"

"No, don't-!"

"METEOR!" The spell crushed us both, and I was forced to warp away. A pity that silence is a white magic spell.

"Tellah, why?"

"Why? You dare ask WHY!? You KNOW why! METEOR!" The Meteor came, and I warped again. Tellah, infuriated, cast another, and another. His speed was astounding! Meteor takes much longer to cast, yet there he was, firing it off like it was nothing!

"Is that all this is, then? A continuation of the battle we fought in Zot?"

"Does it need to be anything more! You killed my daughter you bastard! For that alone you should suffer worse than this! METEOR!"

"Tellah, listen to me! I am a changed man from that day!"

"Are you?" He shrieked at the top of his lungs. "And what can I say of that? Oh, Cecil forgave you, Golbez! Oh, the WORLD forgave you when his son took the throne and told them! Oh, you fought to stop your old master, and to save the world from dire peril! That's not good enough!"

"What more!? What more do you ask of me?"

"ANNA couldn't forgive you! Anna couldn't take a throne! Anna couldn't fight evil! Anna couldn't save the world! YOU TOOK THAT FROM HER! But that wasn't enough, was it? You took it ALL you sick, twisted monster! Anna would never bear children, would never laugh, would never cry, would never hate, would never love because of YOU. Did you save thousands of lives? Did you give them a future? Yet that will not atone for the lives you took, for the futures you stole!

"You want to know what this is, you horrible, carcass dwelling fly! This is your day of Reckoning. This is your day of Judgment. THIS IS YOUR DOOMSDAY!"

The ground beneath me exploded as the nuclear spell ignited. My armor melted to my skin, then my skin melted from my body. As the flames subsided, a meteor crushed me again. Beneath it my bones re-set themselves and my skin regrew and I rose again.

"No more." I said softly.

"What was that? Had enough, have you? Well I haven't! This miscarriage of justice will not stand! You cavort with Chaos and walk with Angels and no one punishes you for what you've done! SO I WILL!"

"NO MORE!" I roared. "I am no more the CREATURE OF SHADOW I was!" I called, summoning my Dark Dragon. "I am not going to stand in the shadow of Cecil, nor will I forever live in shame of what I did! I am SORRY, do you hear me? I am sorry!"

"Are you, now? Then why defend yourself!? Accept your pain, Anna's pain, MY PAIN!"

"I accept the pain," I said, at last beginning to cry, "But I will not sit here forever and wallow in it. I am sorry, Tellah. I am so sorry. I would give my life for hers if I could. I would die a thousand times for her if it would bring her back, but it will not. I am not God, Tellah, I cannot undo what I did wrong. What would you have me do?"

"I would have you _suffer_, dragonfly. I would have you torn limb from limb. I would have you burn here for all eternity, and even then it would not be enough. I will expend the infinite limits of my imagination conceiving ever more terrible punishments for you, and yet will that not be enough! And you will suffer all of it, knowing that you deserve worse still. The Scourge of Baron! The Fifth Fiend! You are the man who flooded the streets of Mysidia with blood! You are he who scorched Damcyan to the ground! You are the man responsible for the massacre of Eblan, for the invasion of Fabul, for everything! You took my daughter's life, Golbez, there is NOTHING you can do!"

Tellah unleashed a hail of Meteors and a flurry of flares and the dragon took them for me. It shrieked in agony as a Doomsday spell incinerated it and left me to feel the weight of Tellah's words. I had taken a life, and perhaps there was never to be forgiveness for that. I had taken many lives, and I had fled from retribution. This, then, was my fate.

But I could not accept it. My flesh recoiled and my face heated and a great and terrible roar welled up within me. I could not take this lying down. I was tired of spending eternity ashamed of myself, of living in a constant sorrow. I summoned the shadow dragon again, and struck back.

"Are you so angry with me?" I asked, the dragon coiling about me, "Or is there a more chilling truth you run from? Does the BINDING COLD prevent your tongue from voicing the truth?" I asked, pinning him down with a spell. "Your tongue is still free, Tellah, but is your mind? You know the truth as well as I do. You threw your life away. I did not take it from you, you wasted it."

"I spent it to slay you!"

"And FAILED! In the end you did not avenge Anna, you did not stop me, and I went on to do as much evil as I pleased."

"Don't you dare suggest I am responsible for your evils!"

"Why would I? I am responsible for my evils, Tellah, but what of your own?"

"My . . . own?"

"The great sage Tellah!" I mocked, stepping away, leaving the dragon to encircle him. "Renowned across the world for the many wondrous things he did in his youth, travelling it with his true friend. Who was that man again?"

"I don't know where you're going with this."  
>"Oh yes, the Elder of Mysidia! Mysidia, the town of mages. The town established at the Dragon's Maw, is it not?"<p>

"You would know, having sent Baron's men to sack it."

"Mysidia, the village of mages. But tell me, Tellah, where did the men of the Blue Planet learn magic?"

"We always knew magic-."

"DO NOT LIE! Yes, your race knew magic. The magic of summons, which was hereditary, primitive, and required pacts with Eidolons to function. But scholastic magic you were taught by one man. The same man who taught your people science, who gave them the air, who raised up all their mighty civilizations. The same man who you and the Elder of Mysidia and Cid of Baron all revered and called Master. You gained magic from Kluya. Do you deny it?"

"Why would I deny it?"

"How did you fail to know that your Master had two sons?"

Tellah's eyes opened wide, so much so that they could be seen to widen behind his shades, and his mouth opened in an inaudible gasp. The dragon tightened around him as I continued, emboldened by gaining the upper hand.

"Where were you on the night the man who raised up your people was slaughtered in the streets? All those years I blamed myself for not being able to heal him."

"You-you-you can't be!"

"But where was the Great Sage? And where was the Elder? Where were those men so gifted with the healing magic my father had brought from the Heavens to this world? Where were you the night he was stabbed and left to die like a dog in the streets!"

"I-I-I-I was-."

"How did you not know he had a son? How did you not come to see his wife when she bore him his second? Where were his most beloved pupils when she died? Did you look for the sons of Kluya even once? Did anyone, be it the Great Sage, the Elder of Mysidia, Baron's Chief Engineer or the King of Baron himself ever so much as LOOK for us?"

"We . . ."

"None of you took us in! And I, so young, could never have cared for Cecil myself! No one in the village sought me! No one in the world sought me! Was it any wonder that when Zemus came, I accepted him? I found Scarmiglione, hideous and hated, and I accepted him because we were rejected by the world. Barbariccia was the only woman who ever spoke to me a kind word, Cagnazzo my defender and Rubicante the one who showed me what honor and mercy I ever showed your kind. Did I sack Mysidia? Did I burn Damcyan to the ground? Did I raze Mist and ravage Fabul, did I pillage Eblan and cast my shadow o'er Troia? Oh, I did all those things, and for Zemus, the only one who ever looked for me, I would have done more. And here comes the truth, Tellah. Here comes the horrible, awful, painful truth you have been running from all your life."

I knelt before him and allowed him a good look at my face. My father's face. The face of a Lunarian. "You could have saved Anna before she was ever born if you had ever once bothered to look for Kluya's sons. You, his greatest student, could have saved them all, if you had only done what was required of a Sage. I lost my father because you weren't there to save him. You lost your daughter in return."

Tellah's tears of shame returned to ones of rage at that barb. "We are not equal! You murdered her!"

"And you abandoned him! The man who gave you EVERYTHING! You abandoned what was most precious and dear to him in the world! He gave you the gift of magic and you failed utterly and completely to use it for good! When it mattered most, all the great men of the world failed my father, and so when Zemus took Cecil and I for his own ends, it was not evil unrestrained. It was not a plan to eradicate your kind, nor was it even vengeance on my father. It was retribution. It was your day of reckoning. You took and took and took from him, and when he needed it, YOU ABANDONED HIM TO DIE!"

I stepped back a few paces and motioned for the dragon to release him. The dragon came to my side and I, gesturing toward the sage, said, "I am going to release you. When I do, we will resume the battle. You and I will duel here, for however long it takes. Until Eternity falls, if we must. But know this, Tellah. I am sorry for what happened to your daughter. Are you sorry for what happened to my father?"

I snapped my fingers and the binding cold departed. Tellah rose to his feet and began his incantation. I began my own. I was not sure what to cast at first, but a spell came to mind. When it did, I took a step forward. Tellah followed suit. We continued until we were both a pace away, our spells ready and charge.

In unison we released the mightiest of all magics. No, it would be better to say that together we wrought a miracle. For in that instant, Tellah's arms fell around me, and mine around him, and we together wept.

"I am sorry my boy," he sobbed. "I had no idea. I am so sorry."

"No," I returned, "it is I who am sorry. I took so much from you. I fueled your hate, and turned you against what you had dedicated your life to."

"And you have reminded me of that dedication," he said. "You gave me anger, but you have taken it as well."

We stood there after that, for a great time, doing nothing more than embracing and weeping. We had both at last found the miracle of forgiveness.


	21. Chapter 21 Acceptance and Rejection

_**THE VILLAGE OF ROMANTIC, BY THE ROMANTIC BEACH, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**ONE DAY AFTER THE EVENTS AT CECIL'S ANNIVERSARY.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

"You have been quiet today," she said to me.

"I'm sorry," I said, not feeling particularly sorry at all, "which of you am I supposed to be talking to? The world-eater, the pompous twig or the composite of dirty laundry?"

"Careless words," she cautioned.

"If you had an ass I'd tell you to stuff them up it. You can't touch me."

"Not while we need Alfador? Is that what you mean to say? Dear child, you overestimate your longevity, and his."

"And you inflate your capabilities and worth to levels beyond obscenity."

"See? You are talkative."

"And you're a monster."

"We are. There is no such thing as monsters. Only echoes of the evils that dwell within our heart."

I would have shrieked, but someone grabbing my hand softly silenced me. No sooner had I realized it than it passed. I turned to look behind me and saw only the Cloud of Darkness, floating along. She did not meet my gaze, and I wondered whether that was significant or not. I then considered the idea of Ex-Death having been the one to do it, and burst out laughing.

"Does something about our reality amuse you?"

"What?" I asked, having forgotten the conversation. "Oh, uhm, no. No. No. Everything about you disgusts me."

"A remnant of the disgust we have felt, that is all."

Her conceited nature was grating, but Alfador had required my presence. His reasons weren't that well explained, but keeping tabs on her DID seem like a good idea. I needed to dial back my confrontation. Mio had other ideas, though.

"Whence cometh your confidence, we wonder? And your hope? We will succeed in our goal, this is a surety, so what reason have you to rejoice?"

"What reason do you?"

"We have already said: we will succeed. This is a fact."

"Why is that?"

"Because we say it is? Who could possibly stop us? No one, because we would not stop ourselves, and none of you can do what we would not. It is impossible."

"And yet we have turned Cid against you and we're trying to kill your son."

Mio did not respond for hours after that. At first I was afraid she'd get violent, but the silence quickly became worse. The waiting for her to react was long and painful. When she did react, I had ceased to expect it.

"We would do the same."

"What?"

"We would do the same that you have done and are trying to do. We would try to kill Cid and Garland."

"Why? How could you?"

"You would do it. You are just reflections of us. Ergo, we would do it."

It must be wearisome to read how someone's blood runs cold when they hear a certain phrase, but I promise you that cold is exactly what I felt that moment. The madness of Mio the Lufaine was something so sick that, in that instant, I began to pity her. She had become so caught up in her twisted view of reality that she could not even define herself. Everything was this business of echoes, even if the echoes bounced back into her.

It was hard, after that, for me to hate her. She was the one who had imprisoned us, yes, and she was the one who planned on using all of us and discarding all of us for her scheme, it was true, but it wasn't that simple. It would have been so much better if she was just one thing! But she was not.

"You love Him still, don't you?" I asked.

"More now than we ever have before. You couldn't understand true love, having never felt truth, but it was something else. In those days he was so strong, he was so handsome and smart. He was full of ideas, of dreams. He wanted to build and create and all the world was his canvas. But he still saw us as the most important piece. We were always that with which he most longed to create. Every time we coupled it was different, it was exciting, it was new. But . . ."

"You couldn't bear him any children."

"We could not." She said, bowing the clothes that were her head. "We . . . never understood why."

"And now?"

"He rejected us then, we are sure. He would smile and assure us, but the sadness in his eyes told us all. He did not love us as much after he discovered that we could never give him sons. We did not couple as often. One day he was ecstatic. He told us he had found a way for us to have a son. Garland is the end result of this claim. Children," She paused for emphasis. "Children are all he ever wanted, we suppose. We have traveled the cosmos in search of him, and when we found him, we found he had had yet another child. We were gone from his life, and he had surrounded himself with children."

"Three is hardly surrounding," Ex-Death scoffed.

"Who said three? No, you are many more than three. You, the children of My Cid."

"What did you say?"

"You are the children of My Cid. All of you. Did you never ponder this word, "Mysidia"? It is my word, whether any of you know it or not. I planted it in the worlds. The Magic City, My Cid. For thus become you all his children. You partake of the magic he gave you all. The Sacrament of Magic binds you to him forever. In his loneliness, Cid must have wept. The echo summoned you all to that world, not to fight, but to comfort your father in his dark hour.

"He rejected us when we were young and nubile, when while our womb was not quick our loins still were! Now, in the twilight of our body, how could he ever accept us? Do you feel pain, echo? It is not unlike ours. For we are in love with the greatest of all men, and he will never love us back. When he sees us, he will be revolted. If not by our body, then by our spirit. He will never care about all we have done to return to his side, to reunite our family. All he will see, in the end, is a haggard old woman who has committed the unspeakable act of loving something so many times more beautiful than she could ever hope to be; a crone withered and shriveled and wizened with evil and cruelty and madness, who trespasses on his morals."

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a tear fall down the cheek of the Cloud of Darkness. I was more surprised to find one running down my own. If only she were just a monster, and not also a woman, wholly and totally broken by the cruel twists of fate! Then I could have hated her and plotted her fall with a clean and pure conscience. But even as I suspected her of acting, my heart broke for her.

"This, you see," she said, "Is why we would do it. Why we would kill him. We cannot bear a universe alone. We have been alone for too long, trapped in a cacophonous downpour of echoes of happier times. We could not bear to continue in a world in which there was no more hope of him loving us. So we will try, this one last time, and if we fail, then we will kill him. We will kill you all, and then ourself. We could not bear a world in which we would always see happiness, but could not have it ourself."

"What about your son?" The Cloud of Darkness asks, drawing a surprised gaze from us all. And then, I swear as I lived, she blushes with embarrassment.

"He . . ."

"Don't say it." I said, "You can't mean it."

"He is not our son. We see that now. He never was ours, no, not truly. He is Cid's, but he never belonged to us. Like all of you, he is a part of the problem. We want him back, to hold him again, but he wants to harm Cid, and we cannot allow it. If he stands in our way, we will stop him.

"We were so happy when he was born," she says, and I know I hear tears, "but we were wrong to rejoice. When he was born the Lufaine wanted him for their own. We cherished every moment we could hold him in our arms, and the smile on his face. But the Lufaine made him something worse. All our suffering is not because of him, though. It is because of us. If we could have given him a son, Cid never would have made Garland, and there never would have been all this. Ah, we are here."

The ruined remnants of what had been an attractive wedding anniversary were still lying around. There were overturned tables and chairs everywhere. Some of them had scorch-marks. There had been a battle here.

"What . . . happened here?" I asked.

"We aren't far behind them. We must hurry." Mio said.

"Who? Behind who? Hello?"

"Everything is in motion now, yes, we can see that. None of them are aware we are on the trail as well, and that works to our advantage." She stretched a hand out across a broken table, making it ripple as she did, "There was a battle here. It was between the Pretender and—no!"

"No what?"

"_She's_ here? Who let her in here? NO! NO! NOOOOOO!"

"Who is here?"

"Fool of a girl!" Mio screamed, turning on me. "Who did this? Alfador? You? WHO IS RESPONSIBLE? Who let her in to this world?"

"WHO?"

"Omega. Omega is in this world."  
>"Didn't Alfador say that to you?"<p>

"We never believe that cat if we can help it. Was it Matoya? Was it Cid? Who would knowingly call Omega into this place? Oh, no. We thought it was just you stupid echoes out to kill our Cid and our son. If Omega is here, someone is playing this game more seriously than we had thought."

"And that means?"

"We may not get to destroy you all before she does."


	22. Chapter 22 Peril and Rescue

_**CASTLE CHAOS, "HELL," WORLD D.**_

_**THE NIGHT GARLAND DIED.  
>THE MAN IN BLACK<strong>_

It wasn't long after the events at the Beach at Romantic when it happened. We had been summoned to Chaos' Throne to discuss the coming invasion of the Holy City that evening, and it is an evening I never want to forget.

I stood on the balcony of the castle, overlooking the burning fields below when I first noticed it. A pinpoint of whitish purple light, far off in the distance. It was small at first, like a star, if Hell had had stars, but as I stared I realized it was growing larger, or rather, it was moving nearer.

"You've spotted it, then?" Kuja asked, coming up behind me.

"You've seen this already?"

"Oh, yes. Jecht went and approached it. He's still got the burns on his left side to prove it. He . . . wasn't very happy."

"What is it? Did he say?"

"No, he didn't. Unless the word "bitch" means anything to you?"

"Hard to say, given his propensity for profanity."

"My thoughts exactly. Now, the obvious fact is that it's coming _here._ There's nothing else down here for it possibly to be headed toward, but what do you think it is, and why would it be coming here?"

"A better question," I mused, "is this: Why is anything down here?"

"Well, that's simple. We're here because—oh, _no._ You don't think-?"

"I do. It's heading here, it's DOWN here, so there's only one reason, isn't there?"

"But why?"

"I have a feeling we're about to find out. Should we simply ask Him, or do you think He'll tell us?"

"He's changed since before the Scholar's Cycle. Even if He hadn't, I doubt He'd tell us in front of so many."

"True," I commented, "But we must know. I have a terrible feeling about all this."

"And your friend hasn't sent word of it?"

"Communications ceased some time back. We are all on our own for now."

"Do you think it has anything to do with Omega?"

"I do not. Serah Farron is drawing the eyes of all onto herself at present. Chaos knows this. Cosmos and the Scholar know it. Cid Lufaine and Shinryu are incapable of thinking of anything else. Some of us are smart enough to capitalize on the negligence of the Mighty for our gain. I would be willing to wager that Chaos undoubtedly laid plans of His own."

"And this is one of them?"

"I have no real idea what this is. If it were in my power, I would turn it away from the Castle, but as Jecht cannot so much as touch it without great pain, I will fold this hand to it."

"Is that wise?"

"Allowing any factor of any scenario to pass out of your hands is tantamount to absolute lunacy in a game like this. Never should you gamble if you do not already know you are going to win. That said, wisdom is presently precluded by the fact that there is, literally, nothing else to do."

Kuja held his peace for a minute, mulling over what I had said. At last he sighed, leaned back and said, "Shall we be going, then? Chaos beckons."

"There will come a day when we answer the summons of none, Kuja."

"You had better pray that Jecht stays alive long enough to keep that statement true, Golbez."

I nodded and turned away from the balcony. It was time to see God. We descended into the throne room where Vincent Valentine, Avatar of Chaos, slouched villainously upon the Impossible Throne. I would go into further detail, but there is a reason the throne is so called.

The demons had gathered in the Great Hall, and with considerably less pomp and circumstance this time around. Indeed, like their God, they appeared sullen and annoyed. It wasn't hard to figure out why. The Liar had made so many promises, and the attack on Cosmos' palace had been a complete failure in their eyes. How could one explain to them that everything was going exactly the way things had been planned?

We took our place among the others of Chaos' chosen and waited patiently for his address. For his part, Valentine—Chaos made no movement. Indeed, had his eyes been closed, I would have wondered if he were sleeping. The Hall filled and still he sat. When the demons ceased to pour in, still he sat. And as he did, it slowly dawned on me why.

"He's waiting for it." I whispered to Kuja.

"I know," Kuja hissed. He was right. Speaking to him in a gathering was as good as an admission that we were in collusion. It would not do.

I glanced over to where Jecht sat and was surprised, honestly, that he was sitting. The entire side of his body had been scorched. His skin was still regrowing, which was impressive, since wounds healed faster than that in Eternity. Whatever it was that had come to see Chaos this evening was mightier than I had initially expected. Its approach worried me deeply.

And then I prayed. I have never before done so, and rarely have I ever considered it, preferring to rely on my own power and skill to achieve ends rather than to entities who are as good as randomly generated numbers, but at this moment I began to pray. In my heart I called out, in earnest, to any God who would hear. Conscious of the danger, I proceeded all the same. I begged this invisible deity for a miracle, and I received, instead, a murder.

One of the assembled demons spoke, "My Lord Chaos, something approaches the castle!"

Valentine sat up, and I realized that, in addition to an unhealthy pallor, he was moving slowly and sweating profusely. When he spoke, he gasped as if in pain. "What is it?"

"A blinding light, burning a path across the hellscape to your Castle, my Lord."

"Burning? The hellscape is perpetually ablaze."

"The flames have been set ablaze, My Lord."

"By a white light, you say?"

"Indeed, Holy One."

Valentine was quiet a moment, then said, "Turn it away."

Jecht spoke up. "How? In case you didn't notice, yer greatness, I couldn't do it myself."

"So go in a pair."

"All due respect, two isn't gonna help more than one."

"TURN IT AWAY."

"What is it?"

"I have peeking glass if you would like to look, Lord Chaos."

"Show it to me."

The demonic aide brought the mirror to Chaos, and He looked into it. He gasped and dropped the mirror, shattering it in surprise.

"Not here!" He exclaimed, trying to rise from the chair. "She's not supposed to come here! No! No! NO NO NO! Not like this! She isn't supposed to come here!"

"Who?" Sephiroth asked. "Who is coming?"

"IDIOT! Why aren't you out there, why is no one trying to stop her? Not like this! Not like this! No no no no no I don't want it to be like this!"

He convulsed violently for a moment on His throne, appearing increasingly childish, but still not answering us. All he would do was shake and scream in frustration. "NOT LIKE THIS!" He wailed, pounding the arm-rests and foaming at the mouth. He pitched forward and coughed up blood.

"He's dying!" I exclaimed. "Chaos is dying!" And then all Hell broke loose. The demons were in an uproar, we disciples of the Lamb argued amongst ourselves, and the Son of God suffered a stroke of celestial proportions.

That is when the door opened. Not a soul moved, all suddenly frozen in place by the sight of her. Shrouded in a burning purple light so bright and intense it was almost white came a maiden dressed in a simple robe, her long hair flowing behind her. She walked past the brawl, past our seats, and came to where Chaos sat, writhing on His throne. He composed Himself long enough to see her extend her hand to stroke his face.

"You were supposed to go to Memoria!" He pleaded, "I'm not here, I'm not here I'm not heeeeeereerererere! How can you save me from her now?"

Inches from it, she stopped and shrieked. Her voice was loud and terrifying, shrill as possible and chilling at the same time. She screeched in His face, and for His part, Chaos slumped dead on His throne. It was then that another cry was heard in the background of her own. This one was older, was filled with more intense sorrow still, and joined her lament. Then a third, like the second, but more fair.

The palace shook, and for a very brief moment I awoke, gasping for air in a strange pool, surrounded by others who also struggled beneath it. I wish I could somehow describe to you the difference in feeling. The way the water felt as it touched my skin, the way my lungs burned as I struggled for air, the sluggish feeling in my head as I strove to stay awake, but the truth is: I cannot put it into words. Reality was as different as the dream as night is to day. If you have not tasted sugar, you cannot know how it differs from salt.

When I returned to the dream, the woman was gone, and Valentine sat upright on his throne. From the looks on the faces of all in the room, I could tell we had experienced the same thing. The question was: why? What had woken us from the dream?

Chaos supplied the answer. "On this night, Cid Lufaine stirred in His Almighty Slumber." He paused for effect. "The reason? Garland, His Holy Son, is dead. Slain, by the hand of Omega, and the design of the Scholar." He raised His arms to the masses and shouted, "Chaos is dead! Long Live Chaos!"

"CHAOS IS DEAD! LONG LIVE CHAOS!" shouted the multitude, knowing what Valentine was declaring. "CHAOS IS DEAD! LONG! LIVE! CHAOOOOOOOOOOS!"

"It begins," I said. "The Dream is Ending."


	23. Chapter 23 Life and Death

_**TRAVERSE TOWN, "HEAVEN", WORLD D.**_

_**THE NIGHT GARLAND DIED.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

Mio's tendrils emerged from the bodies of the wounded and they broke into small pieces. I had been back with her for only a day, having been called away by Alfador for a time, likely to keep me away while Mio attacked the helpless in the Phantom Village. He had given me a few more instructions and sent me off to this place. "Traverse Town" they called it. It was a kitschy little town, abandoned and now scorched. According to Alfador, Omega had been sighted here, and had fought Cosmos' forces here. Judging by the bodies Mio had just finished strangling to death, I would guess Omega had won.

"But, why?" I asked, against my better judgment.

"They failed us." She said. "They failed to stop her. For that alone we should strangle all of them."

"Why are you so obsessed with stopping Omega, though? Plenty of heroes have stopped it before."

"FOOL of a girl! No one destroys the destroyer! Matoya, Matoya was desperate. She summoned Omega for one purpose: To destroy the Lufaine. Onraqui whore! She wanted to kill us, don't you understand?"

"Even I confess difficulty in seeing where you are going with this," Ex-Death said.

"A tree has no brain," Mio snapped. "Omega was summoned to kill the Lufaine. Though all the Lufaine dwindled and died and only the pathetic Lufenians remained, there are still three targets on Omega's agenda."

"Yourself, your husband and son?" The Cloud asked.

"Indeed. We are safe for we have incorporated others. Cid Lufaine, sleeping here, is not. It will hunt Him down, and slay Him in His sleep."

"And if Cid should die while sleeping?"

"This entire world is built from His mind. Your minds flesh it out, give it color, shape, detail. But however much detail you place in a house, if you break its foundation or support, the house will still crumble. How could this have happened? How could Matoya have escaped us and moved to strike against us? How? How could we not know?"

"How does Matoya fit into your whole echo theory?" I asked, insistent upon frustrating her worldview.

"Matoya is all of Cid's genius, and all of our fury. We must make haste. Omega's tracks lead—oh,no."

"No?"

The wrappings that composed Mio's form contracted. Crushed themselves up against her, revealing the vaguest outline of a human body as they pressed further and further together. Then they began to quiver. "No, no, no, no, no. We are too late!"

"Too late? There's no time in this Dream, how can we be too late?"

"You have been busy, away from us, have you not?"

"Alfador summoned."

"As did Chaos. He summoned your dear friend to this spot, and ordered him to execute Minerva."

"But you can't kill a God!"

"He didn't. Chaos did. Through him. How curious, that Alfador did not mention this to you."

"Alfador only says what he wants said."

"Indeed. As we were saying, though, we must hasten. Omega's tracks were headed toward Giruvegan. We can catch her there, and so stop her before Matoya's wrath is fully realized."

"What happens if we don't?" I asked.

"For us? Nothing. For you: _nothing._"

"Then we are in favor of not doing anything," Ex-Death said. "The Void is our goal, is it not?"

Mio's body thrust herself upon Ex-Death, who, in spite of his immense size, cowered before her. Her tendrils snaked out and pierced his armor, eliciting a gasp of pain from the Voidking. She convulsed furiously as she spoke to him. "Let us tell you _something_, you stupid little stick. We could snap you. We _will_ snap you when your usefulness to us ends. We are working for something far more important than your _petty little Void_ could ever hope to be!"

To his credit, Ex-Death retorted, "The Void is the beginning and end of all things. Nothing is more important than it, for it is all, and all is nothing."

Mio made no sound, but Ex-Death's body creaked audibly as she bent him in her fury. "Everything? Nothing? You don't know anything about either of those things. Let me give you a brief history of _everything._" Ex-Death cried out as she filled him with scarf after scarf. They slipped inside him, snaked out of him, and at last one slithered out of the slit in his helmet. Judging from the way he gurgled, it wasn't the only thing it was sliding out of. And then they began to pulsate. They hardened and formed spikes. "**I AM **_**EVERYTHING.**_** YOU ARE **_**NOTHING**_** COMPARED TO ME.**" She vibrated until I feared she would break him into many pieces.

I was about to stop her when The Cloud intervened. "Release him, please, I beg of you!" She plead, throwing her hands on Mio's arm.

Mio laughed. "Echoes," she said. "They won't spare you, Cid," she teased, pulling out of Ex-Death. "No matter how much I beg them to."

The Cloud ran to Ex-Death's side, weeping, and threw herself about him. To my great surprise, he slapped her with all his might. "Your emotions embarrass me." He sneered. The Cloud's eyes welled with tears, and she wept all the more.

"Nor," Mio added, "will you spare me."

"What if he does," I asked, hurrying after her. "What if Cid does forgive you? What then?"

"Cid will not forgive us. He will not. We have betrayed all His morals. He will not love us. He loves all of you, and all of you will kill Him."

"How can we kill Him if He loves us? How do you know He loves us?"

"Because you are His children. Cid was always a creator. It was His passion. All He ever wanted was children, and now He has them."

"That's not evidence enough for me. What proof have you of this love?"

"What further proof do you desire? God loved you all so much He sent His Son."

"Chaos?"

"No. Garland is our Son, not just His. When, at last, God repented of His war and His deal with Shinryu, He sent His Son, and therein is the proof that He will never forgive me, and His love for you exceeds His love for us."

"I don't-."

"The Warrior will kill Chaos. The Warrior will end everything we were. Don't you see? The Warrior of Light is an Omega of Cid's making."

"You think? Have you met this Warrior? Because I have."

"And?"

"He loves Cosmos. If he is so in love with Her, why can't Cid be in love with you still?"

"Because, stupid girl, he does not love her."

"Even now he stands by Her side!"

"And even now that lie crumbles. Cid does not love me. The Warrior does not love me. Cid loves you, and the Warrior loves the one we threw away. Don't you see? We threw her away, and Cid will throw us away. It's . . . no!"

"What?"

"You! You knew! Why? WHY!?" Mio's body shook maddeningly, "WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?" I meant to speak, but Mio began to shriek, "WHY WOULD YOU STALL US? OMEGA IS THERE! WE CANNOT FIND RAEM! CONTACT HAS BEEN LOST WITH NAMINE! THAT CAN ONLY MEAN-!" Her entire body expanded, then rapidly crumbled into a pile of scraps. Then the clothes shot upward and a human mouth and jaw protruded from them and it screamed a scream which none have ever nor will ever be able to replicate. The scream was familiar. I had heard it as a child. The sound my mother made when they took my father's life. The sound of a woman who had just lost something she loved.

It was the sound that Mio made when Garland died.

Her scream was so loud it tore reality asunder, and I found myself suddenly in the dark. In the dark and in the water. I could hear others struggling in the dark as well, but I could not see them. I saw a throne high above us, and on it sat a figure in a white robe, breathing heavily. I began to be afraid for my life, realizing that I was not breathing.

Then someone reached out to me in the dark. A hand held mine, and I felt assured. I relaxed, slipped back under the water and found myself again in the rubble of Traverse Town. Mio was bent over, sobbing profusely, the Cloud of Darkness cradled her face where Ex-Death had slapped her, and Ex-Death was still attempting to stand.

"He's gone," she said. "My son is dead. Omega has killed my son. My baby is dead."

"Mio-."

"I hope Matoya is happy, wherever she is. Because she succeeded. She finally won the War of the Lufaine. And now my son is dead."

"I'm-."

"Now only Chaos remains. Well I hope she's happy, but the War's end is just the beginning. This isn't over until all of us are dead. Not now. Oh, you were so very clever and so very, very risky little girl."

"What-?"

"What if I had carried through on my promise? What then? But you played well. I wanted to shut all of this down. All of it. But if I cannot have my son back, I will not rest until I have the head of the woman who killed him. Gather yourselves. We wage war on Matoya now. To do that, we must have an army."


	24. Chapter 24 Denial and Admission

_**CASTLE CHAOS, "HELL," WORLD D.**_

_**THE NEXT DAY.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

"How do you feel?" The Lord of Hell asked me.

"Dirty. I always feel dirty." I responded, "If I did not, I would long ago have deserted you."

"Is this why you keep washing your hands? You wish to leave me?"

"I wash them because they are covered in the blood of a Goddess."

"No, no. Minerva's blood has long since washed away. Now your own blood stains them."

"You ordered me to kill a Goddess, and I did. Is that not torment enough?"

"Torment? Have you any idea how many there are who hail you now as a hero, both in Heaven and Hell? You were not tormented, you were _privileged._"

"A privilege that even I cannot explain. How could I kill a Goddess? How is such a thing possible?"

"Faith, of course. You believed in me when I told you you could do it, and so it was made possible through your faith in me."

"That is sickness, bold and clear."

"That you should have faith in the God who has promised you your heart's desire? You made a covenant with me, Golbez. Why not embrace it?"

"I fully embrace every aspect of the covenant I made with you," I wryly replied, playing my card a bit too carelessly.

"Do you? I wonder. There are things which bother me, Golbez. Whispers which worm their way through the castle to my ears. Things which I do not fully understand. Things which terrify me to believe they are true."

"My Lord," I said, bowing slightly, "I assure you that I keep still the covenant that I made with you, and that I am ever loyal to it."

"And I should take you at your word?"

"How many angels do you know who would kill a Goddess at your command?"

"Well there's-."

"Angels, My Lord, not the demons here who would do anything for fear of thy wrath."

"You make a point."

"The spikes on the armor are not simply meant to indicate my allegiance," I said. "Now, if you will excuse me, Lord Chaos, I would see the burning plains once more. The world will soon be ending. I should like to see Hell one last time."

"Sentimental, aren't we? Go, then. Behold this prison in which my Father trapped me. See how they scream in pain and agony and ask yourself if any being, no matter how guilty, truly is deserving of an eternity of this."

"As you wish," I answer, bowing before taking my leave. In my heart I know that there are many here who do deserve this fate for eternity. I know only too well that men like Kefka and Mateus are beyond redemption, and I shudder to think of a world in which Chaos set them loose.

My intention in exiting the castle was not, however, to see the sulfur fields which spread before it. I had received a summons from Alfador that morning, and made certain that I would be able to attend. He was an enigmatic and dangerous ally to have, but war makes for strange bedfellows.

I found him lounging beneath a tree carved of a giant hand, or rather, the bones of a massive hand which had been propped up to resemble a tree. Pieces of flesh still hung to it like strange and horrific fruits, and a web of decaying sinew made up its foliage.

"You called?" I asked, by way of alerting him.

"I did. Garland is dead."

"Have you no information I do not already know?"

"Touchy today, are we? The death of the Son of God is of special report, is it not?"

"We woke up. That was noteworthy. The death of one of Chaos' bodies is not as much."

"Oh, but it should be! There were a lot of paradoxes tied up in that body, did you know? You didn't wake up JUST because his death caused Cid to stir in His sleep. You woke up because the backlash from the death of Garland on time was significant enough to CAUSE Cid to stir."

"I don't follow."

"Imagine two lengths of rubber wrapped around two poles. Now imagine if you unlooped one end. What happens? A loud SNAP! And that snap was Garland's paradox closing down and causing Cid to wake for a moment."

"So Chaos' paradox is ended?"

"No, _Garland's_ paradox is ended. Chaos' paradox has just become that much stronger."

"How so?"

"Chaos' paradox was built upon Garland's. Normally, when you remove a foundation it makes things collapse. But because we're talking about a paradox, it instead made it stronger. How do I explain it? Oh, like so: Garland's paradox is the 2000 thousand year time-loop he causes after the 13th cycle. Put simply, Garland is killed not long after the Cycle 013, but, as he dies, he is pulled to World B, where he encourages Chaos to begin the 13 cycles. Chaos is sent to 2000 years before the end of the 13th Cycle and Garland's death in World A where he then sends the fiends who send Garland to World B and the loop perpetuates. World A's "present", World B, World A's "past" and so on. _Chaos'_ paradox is the same story told from Chaos' side. The Fall of Lufenia, World B, The Cycles, Garland's paradox. It's supposed to be a loop, too. Chaos' destruction two thousand years prior to Garland's death causes his soul, the Soul of Chaos, to become a part of the universe which Cid then harnesses into a crystal which he uses as the basis for "Garland" who becomes Chaos who becomes Garland who becomes Chaos who becomes Garland who becomes Chaos and so on and so forth.

"The problem is that, in killing Garland and destroying his body, young Serah Farron has removed an end of the loop. So now there is simply no beginning to it. It's a chicken and egg scenario. Or rather, in killing Garland, the fledgling Omega has just made him immortal by temporarily weakening him. When she kills Vincent, who even now is turning into Chaos, she will only reinforce this."

"So how does one kill Chaos?"

"One does not. Well, maybe that isn't entirely true. One will, but not just _one_. Ultimately, there is nothing you or I could do to stop Chaos. Not even if Cid died right now and brought this reality crashing down on top of everyone else. Here is something which you need to understand, so I will put it into the very simplest of terms I can.

"Shinryu has sought to slay Omega since the beginning. Before the beginning there were _old things._ The old things created a God, who would rule the universe they built. This God is a being of such ancient record that it is hard to say who or what he was. Some say that this God was a state of eternal conflict, of two paddles in constant conflict. Others claim he was running always, building the cosmos as he ran. But I know the truth. The First God was lonely and bored. The Cosmos was something he populated with games because the Old things had left him alone. He tried to make others like him, but this failed.

"Shinryu was one of those Gods he made in an attempt to end his loneliness. But Shinryu is the root of _everything._ Shinryu revolted against his maker, who was becoming ever more detached. He was . . . not without reason. The First God's heart was broken, forever cut off from the things which had made him and the universe he had filled for them. The First God shattered, and when he did, he left two forces in his wake: Omega, the ending and Alpha, the beginning. Omega's power was such that it consumed the world of the Old Gods and left the Void in its place.

"This is what you would call the beginning of the universe. For Alpha brought the worlds from the Void through the Four Essences, and began your universe. And so Omega and Alpha ran amok, destroying and creating the universe as they did. No more were they the God who had thought and felt, but they were reduced to primal forces.

"Shinryu has sought since the beginning to destroy Omega and obtain Alpha's power for himself. His hunger has driven him all the days of his life, and in these forces he sees a way to feel what he believes the First God was: content. But Shinryu's quest, to destroy destruction, will end in failure, and not because of Omega, but because of Chaos.

"When the War of the Lufaine hit its peak, Matoya, the Onraqui witch summoned Omega, who she bound to a mechanical body. Cid Lufaine, of crystal, crafted a boy called Garland or Chaos, who would become the God of Discord. And therein Cid harnessed a power far more terrifying than destruction will ever be: The power of dissent. Shinryu himself dissented from the will of the First God and of the Old Gods. His own quest feeds the power of Chaos.

"And now this is the point I wish for you to hold tightly: So long as we fight Chaos, he will only grow in strength. Destruction and Discord will make him mightier and mightier forever. The words which your friend heard in The Mouth are vital: so long as we cling to power, we will never stop Chaos, for he embodies power. Conflict is his. That road will never, ever resolve this war."

"Then we have already lost, and we are better if we remain here forever," I stated, then, "Alfador, who are you?"  
>"I am a just a cat, looking for the mistress who once rubbed my tummy."<p>

"No cat would go to these lengths."

"Wouldn't he? Look at yourself, Theodor. Why do you go to such lengths to reach a world you do not believe will ever truly come to pass?"

"For the good of others."

"You are no Good, to be omnibenevolent, Theodor. Nor do you believe that even this would atone for what you did. You are too hard on yourself for that. This is much more personal."

"For my brother, then. He deserves to bask in the sun's light."

"You saw Cecil the other day, did you not? I do not believe that interaction was very brotherly."

"The world corrupts him."

"Yes, very well, I almost accept that this lie is the truth. But tell me then, why flowers?"

"Because I have dreamt of them for some time now."

"And why do you dream of flowers, Theodor? What would a man like you know of flowers? A son of the dragon's corpse, your fiend of Earth was rot, not flower. When would you ever have come to know anything about flowers that they would make such an impact upon your mind?"

"In the wars above, of course. I calculated that the flower would make an impact, and it did."

"To be sure, Theodor, to be sure, you did. But tell me, _how could you have known that flowers would do such a thing?_"

"I—that is to say-."

"Why don't you admit it, hmm? The admission will bring you closer to understanding the way we will undo the works of Chaos and Mio alike. Tell me, Theodor, what I already know. How did flowers come to enter into your mind?"

"She did."

"A name, Theodor, a name."

"Aerith Gainsborough, the flower girl."

"You met her during a previous cycle, was it not? And then, when you saw how much effect her flowers had on you and others during that cycle, you adopted them into your plan. And when you came here, you found out she was here again, and you began to get close to her. If this follows the lines of the rest of your relationships, and of course it does, you did so primarily out of guilt."

"On Chaos' orders, I killed her."

"With a Manikin of her, was it not?"

"It was."

"And this is why you regret killing Minerva?"

"In part. I have done much evil at the bidding of other men."

"But this does not fully explain your efforts. As I said before, you cannot be doing this for atonement. Tellah was proof of that. If it had been out of atonement, you would have capitulated to him. Tell me, then, why do you do all of this?"

"Because I must."

"Let us put an end to the lying, shall we? You know I know every last thing you do. You cannot hope to evade me, so please, tell me the truth. Allow me to make a gesture of good faith to you: the reason you do all of this is also the means by which we shall overthrow Mio and Chaos. So why do you do all of these things, Theodor?"

My heart was beating at an extraordinary rate. The words were caught on my tongue, and they seemed so easy to say, but somehow I just could not find the strength to say them. I began to sweat as the images danced before my eyes. My mind reeled from the revelation. Dizzying does not begin to describe the sensation. My stomach turned and froze and twisted and I did not know what to say. Except that I knew what to say immediately, but could not find the courage to say the words.

It made sense. It made perfect sense. I couldn't defeat Chaos, and Alfador would be no better, because it wasn't defeat that Chaos needed. War had forged him, had made him, and in Cid's maddening genius had sustained him. Battle could never put him to an end. That was the point.

But who? Who could be so pure? What man could find it in his heart to possibly do what was necessary? Chaos was the embodiment of all the mistakes that had come upon us since the beginning of everything. If anyone COULD find it in themselves to do what was necessary, how could they possibly carry through? The capacity destroyed the desire.

I looked at my hands and was surprised to find them shaking. I remembered it all perfectly. The girl had to be silenced, you see. And she had to be silenced because she remembered. She remembered a man who had told her to fill a wasteland with flowers. Chaos knew, even then, the dangers she posed. I went to her in the wastes of World B. She spoke to me about it. She must have known then what I was going to do, but she did not resist. Like a flower, she stood passively as I plucked her life away, the black iron of my fists closing about her neck.

And then we were here, in the dream. And we met again. I thought it chance, then. Cecil was a beloved Paladin throughout the Heavens, and she was arm-candy to the many men who curried his favor. At the time I reviled her, not remembering the world above. But as the memories slowly seeped in, I believe that in my heart I knew. I certainly knew before we ever formed any manner of relationship.

The night of Dorgan Klauser's celebration, she danced for all to see. Afterward, while the men in her life contested over who would dance with her next, she made her way through the crowd to where I stood watching from the balcony. We spoke for a few moments and found the conversation pleasant. We stepped outside and spent the entire night walking and talking. I do not remember that night's conversation, but I remember the way I felt. Unnerved, in part, because of the subconscious realization that I had killed this woman. Suspicious, too, that this was not an elaborate scheme on someone else's part. Elated, too, that this prized woman was paying so much attention to me, and embarrassed that I had ever judged her as a whore.

We became friends not long after that, meeting at various parties and functions, until we began to use them as thinly veiled excuses to see each other. After we both realized it, we would spend our time instead in private, walking or sitting in her gardens and talking about anything and everything. She told me of her conflict between the two men she loved, and I confided in her all the demons of my past. Neither of us had any advice for the other, but it was nice to just have somebody who would listen and try to understand and not judge for a change.

Then, at last, circumstances lead us apart, to our present states. I still remember the way I felt in that cell on the Day of Cid. Next to those brief moments after waking in World C, it was the realest I had ever felt. I remember the burning desire to accept her offer and discard thought, word and reason and at last to taste and touch that which I had hitherto only ever wondered about. But I refused, and did not partake of that which I have always known is not mine to take.

Even knowing this in that moment, beneath that horrid tree, I could not prevent the words from coming any more than a man might prevent a hurricane. The pain of a heart bursting at long last surged through me as I realized the full implication of Alfador's statement. It could no longer be denied, and so four words poured from my treacherous lips, accompanied by the symphony of her voice in my ears, the splendor of her movements before my eyes, the scintillation of her skin against my cold metal, the bouquet of her fragrance and the ever dreamed of taste.

"Because," I at long last admitted, more to myself than Alfador, "I love her."


	25. Chapter 25 Success and Failure

_**THE RUINS OF MEMORIA, "THE CRYSTAL WORLD," WORLD D.**_

_**THE EVE OF WAR.**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

"You heard us."

"I heard you, yes, but what surprises me is that you choose this moment as your time to spring this."

"Why should this time bother us?"

"Well, let's see here? The bloody pulp on the floor is all that remains of your son, but if that doesn't move you, the red blob over there is the rest of the deity you used as a means of getting here, and the puddle next to it is the woman you used to replace yourself. None of that bothers you?"

"Why should we care about these echoes?"

I slap her. "That's your SON on the ground there. I heard the way you screamed. You can't fool me! You care and I KNOW you care."

"Why do you tolerate this insolence?" Ex-Death asked, "Master, with but a flick of your wrist, her tongue could never have been."

"And with a flick of our tongue your wrists as well," Mio said. "Do not presume to direct us in our work. And _you_, girl, do not presume to touch us."

"You're a sick, cruel thing." I spat. "You want me to believe you know what I feel? You wouldn't know love if it stabbed you in the face!"

"You have that wrong. You do not know how we feel. Your feelings are such imaginary things compared to us. Are we to weep for this bloody mess? Should we feel fear, knowing that even now Omega is killing The Lord Dragon in the Crystal World? Whatever for, little girl? Whatever for?

"In the end, the truth concerning him was evident. Garland was an echo of Cid. Perhaps he was the stone in the pool, from which all other echoes of us began. Our son? We had no son. Cid might say he did, but no child ever passed from our womb to the world of the living. Garland was no more real than you are."

"How dare you! How _dare_ you speak like you are a God, and like you have any right to kill us for what we do to Cid when you are such a cold, heartless piece of iron! Look at me, Mio-."

"You do not have the right to address us so. We have not granted it-."

"You're _wrong_. You think we're all just reflections of you, but you're _wrong_ because _we feel_ and all you have left are the memories of feeling!"

"Fool of a girl-."

"Fool of a hag!" I retorted, "Fool of a Goddess! Fool of a bag of bones! Who are you to speak to me of love? Look here, before you, upon the floor! See the caved in skull of your son's features! See here, where with her own bare hands, Omega tore his arms from his torso, and behold the flattened mass of his heart, which beneath her feet she did trample! See how every last piece of the boy you held in your arms so long ago is now ruined beyond compare! The once proud Son of Lufenia is now nothing but bone and sinew and flesh and blood mingled with dirt and refuse.

"You poor, pathetic, miserable excuse for a Goddess! Look here, how all your scheme and all your plan have come to an end! You enslaved and ensnared us all for the sake of a family you ultimately could not save! How Heaven and Hell weep and shudder and mock you in all the same tone! For you, who brought low the Gods, cannot do a thing now, but sit and wait while we undo everything you have ever striven for-!"

"We are the Mighty! We are beyond all of you! You are nothing but the palest of echoes before our majesty! We do not need to-!"

"We are _everything! You are NOTHING!_ Behold, Mio Lufaine, how your scheme has crumbled before your eyes! For you bred in us anger and hatred, you made us to fight and to die and to suffer in this broken dream overlong, and eventually Omega came among us. And now Omega, filled with emotion you could never understand, will take all that you hold dear, even as you took from us! Garland is dead, Mio, and Cid will die, too! Your every plan has fallen to pieces this day!"

"Has it? Has it? Oh, fool of a girl, you underestimate me so completely! My son will rise from the ashes of this world, and he and his father will one last time rise to war, and when they do, oh when they do, then you, yes YOU will be the strength of my arm as I reach out to crush them all!

"You stupid, stupid girl, thinking you could ever hope to out think me! I am all and all is me! My power extends from one end of all reality to all ends of one! And do you know, stupid little girl, you STUPID LITTLE WHORE, can you guess how that power will come from you to me?"

"A whore? Mio, whence did I receive my lust for men other than Cid if not from you?"

"How _dare_ you speak to us as if you understood even in the slightest?" She asked, approaching. "You foolish little girl. You cast your weaknesses upon us, when it is you who fails to understand them. We tried to go after other men once, it is true, when Cid had vanished and first we strayed, but we, like you, only ever loved Him.

"And that is the way you will make us stronger, flower girl." She grabbed my jaw and pulled my face close enough to see her eyes, burning bright beneath the veils. "You are a Kidd. Your doomed romance will resonate throughout the universe and back into us. Your love for a son of a Cid will make us stronger, and so we will reign over all. Alfador is no doubt planning to use _love_ to stop us, which is about as predictable as it is hackneyed. For this we have prepared: Love will make us stronger, not weaker. Don't you see, you stupid girl? Your love was once our love, and it will bounce across the walls of reality and back into us." She released my face, shoving me backward and onto the ground where I landed in Garland's blood. Then she started to laugh.

"What now?" I asked, more than a little frustrated.

"Even when you stupid echoes kill Cid, your fevered pretentions of love will play directly into our hand. The State of Mio is our last hope. Yes, it's very clear to us now. We will use you all to kill Matoya, and then we will initiate the State of Mio. Where the Lord Dragon has failed, we shall not."

"You're not making any sense!"

"Isn't it obvious? If all of you came from us, then you must go back to us if we are to be with Cid again. Yes, it's at last clear to us now. We can be together again. Cid will not be able to reject us, because we will at long, long last be one again."

"That's . . . sick!"

"Your repulsion was our own, initially, but in time, just as we have come to know this, you, too will. We will end all our suffering by bringing all things back to the place they began: In Cid and I."

Mio walked away, with Ex-Death nipping at her heels like the dog he was. When they had gone away, I began to cry. I was tired, frustrated, humiliated, and scared. I was terrified, really. Mio was a sick and twisted woman, and she had the very real ability to cave reality in on us all at any moment, and there was no consistency between what would set her off one day and the next. Her accusations had touched a nerve and I was at wit's end.

An arm went around my shoulders, and a head rested against mine, and a soothing sound was made. I didn't need to open my eyes to know who it was. The feel of naked skin gave it away. The Cloud of Darkness was trying to comfort me.

"We . . . are sorry. Sorry that these things have come to pass."

"Aren't you as excited as your husband there for the end of the world? Because that's what's coming. She's going to kill us all."

"I-we are committed to Ex-Death, yes, and to the Void, and yet . . . and yet I have felt differently of late."

The use of "I" caught my attention. Mio wavered between plural and singular, but when she did it was in moments of extreme arrogance or weakness. When the Cloud used it, it sounded more like a struggle for identity. "Why do you stay with him when he treats you like that?" I asked.

"Because Goegnuo is wrong. I . . . love more than one, I think."

"You love him?"

"We think so. When we think of the day that The Void consumes us all, and we are at last separated from Ex-Death, our stomach freezes. I . . . would miss him. I would miss the sound of his voice, the way he laughs, and the strength of his arms. Yet . . . we are conflicted. We have been lead to understand relationships are between two people, and there is another we . . . I love."

"Who?"

"We cannot remember his name," she sighed dreamily, "but we remember him. He is strong, with long black hair, and a complete lack of understanding. Where Ex-Death is decisive, he is unpredictable. One is stern, the other laid-back. We are enchanted by him, but ashamed of this . . . because it conflicts with our commitment with Ex-Death. Does this make sense to you?"

"More than you know," I admitted, completely forgetting that I was having a heart-to-heart with a being most people weren't sure had a heart. "I was that way for years. One man shy and quiet, but firm and fierce, with just a hint of snark. The other energetic, vibrant and loud, but maybe a bit too much. I loved them both, even though I knew I should pick one or the other, and not selfishly horde them for myself."

"What happened to them? What decision did you reach?"

With those two questions, the Cloud of Darkness succeeded in doing what Mio never could have. I wept again as it dawned on me. A rush of warmth flooded my face and my heart pounded as my breath shortened. When I spoke, it all played out before me.

The Son of Cid. Of course, what else could it mean? Alfador had said it was a lie so convincing even I had believed it. Cloud's father and Zack's father had never been any manner of great men. To Mio that would never suffice, they weren't echoes of high enough resonance for that to qualify for her theory, and for me to play perfectly into her hands.

But what about a man who had descended from the Heavens, bearing Magic and Science in each hand? Surely he who had established Mysidia and taught the people the secrets of Airships would qualify. What could KluYa mean if not Cid? And then, if Kluya were Cid, who but his two sons could Mio mean? And as Rosa had Cecil completely, there could be no other answer.

I love Cloud and Zack, but neither have been my equal mentally. And then when I met a man who could match pace with wit, I had been captivated by him completely. Even as I had captured Faris' attention that night at Dorgan's party, someone else had taken mine completely. The much talked about Harvey brother had been there, and the initial conversation had been everything I'd hoped. It was stupid, idle prattle about Tonberry rights, but he had been engaging.

We walked that night under the stars, and I should have known it then, but I wasn't yet ready to accept. We talked all night of every stupid thing we could, just hoping to prolong the conversation so that we could extend the amount of time we would be in each other's company. We kept running into each other "on accident" for the same reason.

As I breathed in to speak, I remembered how much I wanted him on the Day of Cid. I told myself that it was to ease his pain, a warm memory for him to cling to in the coming darkness, but I was lying. It had been for myself that I had wanted that moment. And then I reeled from the memories of what I had felt in The Mouth. How had I ever resisted?

Mio's victory assured, I told the Cloud of Darkness, "Why, I fell in love again."


	26. Chapter 26 Friends and Enemies

_**THE BURNING PLAINS, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**THE "FINAL" BATTLE'S OPENING ACT.**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

It had been a long time. The last time we'd seen each other, the Liar had come to his home in search of me. He'd been angry then. He must have been furious now. They all backed away from him, and with good reason. Around me the others followed suit. Everyone was conceding that this was between the two of us, and no one else.

The flames fanned his hair to the side. They raged around him, their white splendor giving him the glory reserved for Gods. The steel of his saber glistened like a bolt of thunder, the iron of his greaves was dark as a storm cloud. His cape flowed in the divine wind.

"Cecil," I said. "So good to see you."

"Brother," he replied, "It's been awhile."

We began to circle each other. Like two beasts, we stalked around, surrounded by our respective allies. We both had to know what would come next. I could only hope that Cecil knew as well as I did. Chaos had ordered us to the city, and already the demons took it, but He had sent us back to meet the Judges Cosmos had dispatched to reclaim the city. Chaos was even now scouring the city for Her.

"Surrender the city, Theodor," Cecil said. "Come home, and put this war at an end."

"You know that I cannot, Cecil. Even if I wanted to spare the Heavens, and I do not, I could not now stop what Chaos has set in motion."

"You're right, my brother, alone I cannot! Together we can-!"

"We have never been, Cecil. That is the sad truth I need for you to learn today. You and I never were anything more than foes. That was our natural state and that is our natural ending. That is how we began, and that is how this all must end."

"No! We're brothers! We fought Creator and we can-!"

"No, Cecil. You fought him. Ever was I your shadow. You had life, and I spent all of mine wallowing in shadow and death."

"That was Zemus! That was-!"

"If Zemus had taken you, would we have been brothers then?"

"That's not fair, Theodor."

"Justice is yours, Cecil, not mine. Is it fair that you have a wife and child and that I was instrumental in slaughtering thousands of innocents because of a twist of fate?"

"Of course not, but-!"

"Is it fair that I went to Heaven after doing so?"

"You more than-!"

"Is it fair that I killed Anna and then did not even enjoy the opportunities I took from her?"

"That's different-!"

"No it is not, my dear brother. Don't you see? Nothing ever went wrong. Everything has simply always been wrong. Why should I not join Chaos, then, for a chance to set it right?"

"You cannot be such a fool!"

"Oh, Cecil, I wish that I were not. I wish I could walk away with you this moment, and leave all of this behind me as if it were just some terrible dream."

"Then why?! Why don't you, Theodor?! Come away with me! Throw down your arms and we can walk away from this, right now!"

"Can we? Let me ask you, Cecil: could you? This is my life. This is who I am. This is all I have ever been."

"People can change, brother! I did!"

"Did you? What changed, Cecil? Nothing changed, beyond your fashion sense. You still were friends with Kain, you still loved Rosa, and you still fought for the Baron you had loved. What changed, Cecil? And again, let me ask you: could you really leave it all behind? Could you walk away from your blushing bride? From your bouncing baby boy? Your best friend?"

"What then!?" Cecil shouted, tears flowing down his face. "What do I tell mother and father? What do I tell them happened to their son? To the brother I so long protected?"

"I AM NOT YOURS TO PROTECT!" I lashed out, taking the opportunity to send a spell his way. It caught him off guard, but to his credit, Cecil was not so easily thrown off balance. He blocked, struck, and then backed away when I parried.

"Theodor, _please!_ Think of our family! You cannot want this!"

"What I want has never mattered, and it does not now. Under Zemus, my life was one of dedication to his mission. Afterward, it was one of self-denial, for fear of the base nature which had lead me to his claws. The only one who gets what he wants is you."

"Then come with me, for that is what I want!"

"Then at last you will be denied something!" I fired again, and Cecil deflected it back at me. I dissipated the spell before it could arrive.

"That's not fair."

"Again? Allow me to tell you what else is not fair. In two weeks, Cecil, you will hold your son's dead body in your hands as his soul is taken down to the endless Void."

A moment of surprise and fear danced across his face, then rage. Cecil struck at me, and I caught the blade with my palm. "You couldn't possibly," he began.

"I won't." I said, "but you cannot avoid it. Your army has lost this battle before it even begins."

"That's a surprising amount of confidence coming from you, Theodor."

"Alas, I would that it were a sign of improving conditions. But no, it is simply a surety. Even now Chaos scours the Holy City for Cosmos. When He loses patience, He will instead move to attack the Highest. Lest that be enough to frighten you, my brother, know that you will not break this siege in time to reach Him, and that He would not bother to engage even if you did.

"By my estimates, you will not break this siege for a week of more. In that amount of time, Cosmos will have betrayed you all. If She does not, then the High Confessor, Barthandelus, most definitely will. You have an agent who has been investigating him, have you not? You do not know it, because of the siege, but yesterday he hung her for treason. Poor, poor Shantotto. Oh, but I am afraid there's more.

"You see, when you break the siege, our forces will at last pour out of the Holy City, and you will be forced to retreat. As you do, Omega will arrive here. The sword the Cids have so carefully sharpened will at last plunge itself into the Highest. Caught between the Destroyer and the God of Discord we will break you all with such a fury that we will not realize she is upon us until it is too late. In that madness your son will die. You will die. I will die. There is nothing that can be done to stop it."

"You can stop it now!" He roared, lunging forward. I released the blade as it cut into my hand and stepped to the side, stomping on it instead. I repaid his damage with a flare to the face.

"Why would I? This is how I want things to go."

"You can't mean that!"

"I want reality, Cecil. Let me go on my terms."

"Dammit! What about the next cycle?"

"Even there we would be enemies. You and I will always be enemies, brother."

Cecil headbutted me, causing me to back off of his blade long enough for him to free it and strike my stomach. The metal bit through my armor and into my flesh, where it caught. As I bled, I reached for the blade.

"Why are you doing this?" He plead.

My fingers came to rest on the blade again. "Because I would rather return to a world in which you truly hated me than live one more in this where you feigned love." Electricity coursed from my hand, down the blade, and into Cecil's body. He shouted in alarm and released the hilt. I dislodged the sword from my stomach and snapped it over my knee.

"How can you question my feelings for you, brother?"

"I do not question your sentimentality," I admitted, running forward. Cecil's hands flew out and caught mine, our arms locking in a struggle to see who could force who to the ground. The time for weapons had passed. "I question you, and your reality."

"My . . . reality?" He asked as I kicked his feet out from under him. Cecil was beneath me for barely a second before he rolled aside and to his feet again. "You make war on me and my family brother, and you speak of death and demise and side with a God who makes war on all happiness, and you question _me?_ I love you brother, but I question your grasp on reality."

"I am trying rather desperately to let go of this one. You'll find it does not wash out that well."

"I tire of this, Theodor! I have been more than patient!"

"And now let us see the end of your infamous forgiveness."  
>"Yes, let us." He said. "I have long permitted you and Kain in my house. I have welcomed you both. Men who have done me much wrong, but I welcomed you all the same. And what becomes of that now? Kain is nowhere to be found today, and you have confronted me again in battle.<p>

"Is this the thanks I get? I loved you as my brothers, and find myself abandoned at the last. As the both of you wallowed in past failings, I had to forget the sting of my own, because if I did not, who would hold us together? You weep because you served horrific ends. So does Kain. Am I so sacred, that my own sins never occurred? I have nightmares, too, Theodor. But I kept mine under control.

"That's repentance! You move on! You pick up whatever pieces you have left and you trust that something greater will pull you together again. I never got to look back. I never got to be weak again. I never got to have an off day. How many thousands of years have I kept on because if I did not, we all would surely succumb to evil again?

"I did it, Theodor. I upheld my end. I fought the good fight. I kept the faith. It isn't about strength. It isn't about destiny. It isn't about might or power or whatever. It's about forgiveness. You and Kain only ever sought, and never learned to give, not even to yourselves. That is the difference between us."

Cecil twisted my arm and sent me flying over his shoulder. I recovered before he could strike again and we clashed further. As he gripped my fist his strength splintered the armor on my arm all the way to the joint. Blood ran down his fist as my greave sank into his flesh. He headbutted me again, shattering my helm and leaving a great amount of blood on his face.

I was surprised, frankly. I had never known Cecil to have such strength. His might was breaking the dream-physics of my equipment, and I worried what that might portend. It was clear he was at last angry, and I would soon learn that there are reasons that Paladin's have strict laws of combat. Cecil, for his part, would soon witness that I had restrained myself for no small period as well.

"So much for your forgiveness, given that you've harbored all these feelings for all this time, Cecil. So much for your righteousness."

"At least I made a play of it! At least I put forth effort!" He shouted before I drove the joint of my remaining arm into his gut, depriving him of breath.

"At least I can say I never pretended to be something I am not."

"You pretended to be confident," he snarled, pushing me off of him. "You pretended at being a great man. Look at you, though, Theodor. Well did Zemus summarize you as a fly born of Dragon's corpse! You lay the blame of your failures upon my successes, but allow me to throw that back in your face!

"You have no wife and no child for the same reason that nations still fear and revile you. You have no happiness for the same reason that you continue to dress in this darkness and consort with these wretches who ally themselves with the enemy of all order! You know what that reason is, Theodor? You wallow in misery. You welcome it. You WANT it. You want to feel bad. You cannot forgive yourself for what you did, and so you sit there and stink of the corpses of sins long since slain.

"You and Kain both could have been great and noble men! You could have been glorious even after all you had done wrong, but what did you do? The two of you lived instead in the memories of past error, rather than welcome the future! You both ran! Kain to Mt. Ordeals, and you to the Moon. And neither of you dared to confront yourselves and then move on with your lives!

"So don't come to me, don't come to me with your tears and your misery, Theodor! I killed innocents in Mysidia! I burned Mist to the ground! I was the dog of a king you placed on the throne! I, too, served Zemus' wishes the way you and Kain did! And did I spend all my life running from the Mysidians? No! I welcomed their punishment and made atonement for what I did wrong! Did I run from Mist's children? No! I welcomed them into my home, and I accepted their judgment and labored with my hands to set right what I did wrong!

"I was captain of the Red Wings! My men burned Damcyan, but I did not flee! I threw myself to their mercy and when they were sated, I moved on! I slew the King of Baron, and when they called me to be its King I did not shrink and cower before destiny! I was the Maenad's keystone in sending the world spinning into catastrophe, and did I flee from you, or Kain, or my own wife and son after all I had done evil in their eyes? No!

"Speak no more to me as if you know what is real or right, _Golbez_. I faced reality every day of my life and never once did I flee from the evil I had done. What would you know of life, of a real world? Of penance? Every day of your life was spent running from the many failures you committed. You ran when mother died, you ran when father died, and you ran when I began to cry. _You ran,_ Golbez, _you_ ran."

The name stung worse than anything else he could do or say, and I was sure I would succumb to that alone, were it not for his final barb. He had to bring mother into it. If that was the case, that he should play on so deep-seated a nerve, it was time I repaid him in kind and showed him how the men of Fabul, Eblan, and Damcyan fell.

With a growl so terrible it surprised even those Chaos had sent with me, I shoved Cecil backward, then back-handed him to the ground. When he fell I stooped down, picked him up, and flung him again. This time I did not let him hit the ground. Assault systems pummeled him back upward as gravity spells sent him back and forth.

I punctuated my tirade with cosmic rays, "What a brave man you are, my dear brother! To tear at those beneath you for not being up to the standards you yourself have set! I don't NEED to be like you, Cecil! I will find my own path!"

"Then _do it_, Theodor! Cast off the chains which encircle you and be something other than the specter of the past you cling to so desperately!"

"Am I he who clings with desperation? You can't let go, either, can you, Cecil? You put on that brave face of yours and you bury it in your wife's bosom and hope and pray that the longer you are nestled there, the less you have to remember them: the screams of the Mysidians as you mowed them down.

"I hear them too, Cecil! The agonized shrieks of the children of Damcyan as I burned them where they stood. The brave and foolish final stand of the men of Eblan as their King and Queen were carried off, shrieking for their son. I remember what Lugae did to them. I remember the smell of gunpowder as the cannons on the Tower our Father built slaughtered dwarves by the thousands. I remember it as well as you do, Cecil! The chorus of the innocent as I snuffed their lives out for what I had thought was a just and noble cause and an enlightened and divinely appointed leader!

"And I hear them at night, as I sleep, the many who suffered because of what I did. The angry accusations of the dead. And I know what you have said again and again in your heart: that they're never going away. And are these thoughts our own? Or do they belong to Zemus and the Maenad? Who am I, if the chapel of my mind has already been violated? How do we trust others when we ourselves cannot be trusted, either? When we know only too well what manner of man we are beneath the brave and penitent faces we put up?

"Damcyan can happen again, Cecil. Mysidia can happen again. Fabul can happen again. Anyone can do the things which we have done. That is why I do what I must. It has to stop, don't you see? Hurt leads to fear and anger, which in turn create hate, which is the wellspring of all evil, from whence uncountable hurt must issue. All humanity has been dealt a wound since the days of its birth, and all life bleeds as if from a great wound. So I will stop it."

"You propose a euthanasia, Theodor, and not a balm. As long as men think the way you do, there will be men like me to stand in their way. Oh yes, I could have been like you. I could do Mysidia again, but I will not. If all the days of my life are spent in actively restraining myself, better it is than to surrender to that, or to die to prevent it. I'm not running from who I was or what I did, Theodor. I'm facing it, here and now."

"So you say, my dear brother, so you say."

"And so we have said. Let us have an end of saying, then."

"Indeed."

We motioned to our confused allies to leave, and, unfortunately they did not. The electricity began to flow from my hand to Cecil's sword and back again as we circled one another one last time. The circuit of energy was never meant to be turned inward, and I was not sure exactly what would happen, but I also did not care. I needed Cecil out of my way in order to save him, and this was the only way I could think to do it. It was high time we had a final airing of our grievances. And though it pained us both to fight, I knew it was necessary to keep my façade before Chaos' children.

The Ultima Spark Band was turned in on itself as Cecil and I charged one another, and the spell exploded with incredible force. All members of both parties were sent flying, and a blinding light filled the area. As the furious might of the Band threatened to push us away, both Cecil and I reached into the inferno for one another. Our fingers touched just as the Spark reached its climax and sent us flying. I have not seen him since, but it was reassuring to know that even after all the hard words and violence, he had yet to give up on me.

As for me, I had someone I needed to visit before the world came to an end. It meant abandoning my post, but I deemed it of the highest necessity.


	27. Chapter 27 Beginning and Ending

_**zTHE PALACE OF ORDER, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**THE END IS COMING**_

_**FOR THE FLOWER GIRL.**_

He was beautiful. More beautiful than I had ever imagined. He was perfect. I could not find any fault with his outward appearance if I tried. His nose was firm, pointed but not over-much. His eyes were more piercing and yet gentle. His mouth a straight line, his chin chiseled, his hair the loveliest shade of silver. His shoulders were broad, his muscles obvious even beneath his armor. His arms were strength made flesh, his legs fleet, his loins as attractive as can be. Every part of him was glorious. It was no wonder to me that Mio had fallen in love with this man, and was willing to tear the Heavens asunder for him.

Cosmos was out, he told us, and the city was besieged. He had no time to entertain us either. But I pressed myself against him, in part because it was an effective means of convincing men they did, in fact, want to entertain me, and also to taunt Mio, who must have been seething mere feet away. Could she hate the Warrior she had so long hated, now that she saw him? I could not.

As I pressed into him, and felt his warmth, even through the cold mythril of his armor, my mind returned to a similar moment. There was less between us there, on the beach called romantic. Indeed, between my chest and Benjamin's there was but a very thin layer of fabric. Between our loins only negligibly more. Between our lips nothing more than his rapidly shrinking integrity.

We had been talking, Ben and I. He barely remembered me, which I was sad to discover. We hadn't been close during our mission, and he had slept through the most important moments, but it hurt that he barely recalled. How stable his mind was during his exposure to Omega I can only guess.

We spoke briefly that afternoon about fear, and being forgotten. I maneuvered the conversation where I wanted it, slowly introducing Benjamin to the idea of a world full of Flowers, all while Mio suspected I was trying to persuade him to join her stupid army. This happened quite a bit, and is what's lead me to where I am now.

"Say yes or I'll shout now you'll have judges and confessors all over you sending you to the depths of The Void for trying to rape me."

"Yes."

"Good! I knew we could count on you. The others disagreed, but I knew you were smart." I said, teasing him softly. "What do you know about true love, Ben?"

"Unless there're Gods behind it, they say it's a sham."

"What do you say?"

"Gods be damned. Some people're just made for each other."

"When two people fall in love, _true love_, isn't it their right to be together forever?" At the time I was no longer sure who I was really talking about. Myself, Mio, or someone else. Looking at the Warrior, I think . . . I think I know.

"Yeah. I guess so. I mean, that's what true love is all about: you stay with someone through all the goods and bads." But it's always just one, right? Why must I be so selfish and want more than one?

"But what if you were robbed by all of that? What would you do to get your true love back?"

"Everything, duh? I mean, it wouldn't be true love if you didn't do your best to protect it." Was this how Mio began? A woman innocently thinking that her love took precedent over all else? Is that how I've been thinking? Theodor's question carries with it the implication of the obvious answer of "everything", but I don't know anymore. Mio is willing to do everything, and that's lead her here. Maybe we're wrong? Maybe love isn't the answer after all?

"You're cute when you're scared," I said, drawing his gaze. "Most men would be more turned on by the moment."

"The prospect of eternity in The Void is not something that gets me hot, sorry."

"Relax, Ben. How many times do I have to say that? Now, let's say you lost your true love, and you're fighting to get her back. Is there a point where you should let go? Do you do everything for her, or do you draw the line somewhere? How much does true love require?"

"Well, I mean, you have to do everything you can to save the ones you love."

"What if that meant becoming something or someone different from what they'd loved?" Now I did mean Mio. Mio had made this sacrifice, and it tortured her. Every time she thought of Cid it tore her up. There had to be a line. I felt this was it.

"Uhm."

"Tough question, huh? Need some time to think it over? Lemme relax you while you mull it over."

"What is love?" He asked suddenly.

"What?"

"What's love to you? That's what answers the question. What do you consider true and faithful? If you do it with love in your heart, you don't become a monster to get your true love back. You find a better way to do it. Love conquers all. Love makes right. If you're doing something for love, there is no evil in it. Not if you REALLY have love in your heart."

I should have wept then. I should have fallen on him and just cried. What he had said was beautiful. It was so simple, so clear, so pure. And so entirely what Mio had missed. There had been another way to find Cid and save Him. She let go of her mind, no one took it from her. She _lost_ it, no one _stole_ it. Mio had crossed the line, because it was easier, rather than find a better way.

"Well, aren't we poetic? I bet the girls go nuts for you back home, huh?"

"Too bad plural marriage wasn't allowed when I was alive, eh?"

"Right of Gods alone, I guess."

"Well, there you have it. Can I go, now?"

"So soon? I could find God in your hands, Ben. C'mon, we could be so holy. Zack always talks about how it feels so religious. But I have my orders. Proposal to make you, Benjamin."

"I thought we'd already done that?"

"Not quite. Let me make it clear for you . . ." I lowered my head and whispered the words into his ear. "I need you to take the sword I give you during an upcoming battle with Gilgamesh and make sure he gets it. Make sure he doesn't lose it. Then make certain you stick with Lightning and company the whole way, you got it? THE WHOLE WAY. And one last thing: Make sure true love conquers all. Now then, do you understand the mission?"

"Yes."

And that was the last of it. Benjamin was faithful to the cause, as I am sure you must know by now. During the duel with Arthur, I handed him the Excalipoor, which he handed to Gilgamesh, who would carry it for us to the moment of Absolute Virtue. I used them, it's true. I used all of them for my own ends. By this chapter's end, I am hoping that that becomes abundantly clear. You need to know this, because it's important. It's important that somebody knows how far we went to get where we are, and how much we did for this.

But I suppose I haven't explained a few important things yet. As I slid my hand around the Warrior's waist and pressed myself closer, mere seconds after forcing the embrace on him, I recalled the sword Benjamin and friends were even now carrying for us. The Excalipoor was a fairly useless weapon, and there would have been many of Omega's enemies who would have applauded us for giving it to her retainer. That wasn't the point, though.

The truth is, the sword was exactly where Mio wanted it. Excalipoor, as it turns out, is a part of Alpha Weapon, and Mio had made it clear she wanted to assemble it the night before I went out to Romantic for her. Mio was covering her bases. If she could not secure Absolute Virtue, and she could not save Cid, and her army failed her, then she had one other alternative, which to my horror, she outlined in great detail.

"We will solve everything, if we must." She said. It was just the two of us. Chaos had called for Ex-Death and the Cloud, and the two of us were alone, sitting on a boat in a town called Aquatic. "Observe."

She dropped a pebble into the water, causing ripples to flow outward. She dipped her finger into the center of the ripples, and they flowed backward into it. I could tell she was smiling, even having never seen her face. Her smile drew from the gasp of horror I let out as I watched.

"We are the center, you see. Cid and I. If you stupid little ripples kill him, we will solve this the only way left to us: We will draw all the echoes back into the center."

"H-how?"

"Do you know why we accepted you in our presence, foolish girl?"

"Alfador insisted."

"And do you know why we have accepted Alfador's stipulation? Allow us to explain: Alfador is a Beast. But not just any Beast."

"What, is he special like Shinryu?"

"Shinryu _is_ just a Beast, foolish girl. He is nothing but a pathetic Beast which Cid accepted before he could know his true might. No, Alfador is far more important a Beast. For you see, Alfador is Alpha Weapon's Beast."

"I don't follow you."

"When the First God was broken, he became Alpha and Omega. When Chaos defeated Omega, he broke it, and its fragments came to rest in a Beast, two Beauties, and a Sword. At this moment, Matoya's puppets' puppet is reuniting these pieces, which Matoya herself inserted into the dream. The sword is in her hands, and Matoya's glued the girl together somehow. The Beast, Omega Weapon, is currently in the hands of those echoes of Cid who seek to kill him. The Beauties we will soon contact.

"Alpha weapon broke itself out of sheer sorrow for Omega's actions. The result was a Beast, two Beauties, and a Sword. The Sword you will secure for us tomorrow. Excalipoor, they call it. The Beast is of course Alfador, who retains the last remnants of the First God's sanity, and is so pathetically trying to stop us from getting what we want."

"And the Beauties?"

"Wouldn't you know it? Alfador gave one to me."

My stomach clenched. "I don't know what you're saying," I lied. I didn't WANT to know.

"You contain exactly one fourth of one half of the very first God the Old Things ever made. And you are instrumental in my final solution."

"And if I refuse?"

"You cannot refuse. You cannot escape. If they kill my Cid, your piece of Alpha will be united with the others, and then-."

"And then-?"

"And then, the murderers who killed my Cid will have delivered the completed Omega Weapon to us. And we shall unite Alpha and Omega."

"And reraise the First God?"

"No, stupid girl. No, we are not so stupid."

"Then what?"

"We have already shown you. We will unite all the echoes back into the center. We will combine everything into ourself. We will become the World, and the World will become us. World D will give way to World M. The Dream will collapse and all things will return to the way they were in the center: The State of Mio.

"In truth, we may opt for this in the end regardless of whether you fools kill my Cid or not. We have the greatest of desires to set right what you have all broken, and this way we can. When all things are united in us, we will finally be able to please Cid, and give him the creation he so desired."

I was paralyzed. I had known she was mad. I had known she was sick. I had known she was evil. But this? This I could never have expected. It was Time Compression on a scale of such magnitude that I am not even sure that Chaos can rival. No, His plan is the exact opposite: A total breakdown of all realities into the pure madness that will be His relief from the pain His continued sanity brings Him. Mio's plan is to homogenize all things into herself, and to combine every last thing with herself. It is the end result of her thoughts: that all things are just some pale shadow of a brief and fleeting moment of shining romance.

As I looked into the Warrior's eyes, though, I could not deny the sickening feeling that she wasn't entirely wrong. For him, I would do the same. I would do anything. Just being near him had so powerful an effect on me that I am not certain how it is that Cosmos exerted any control over him at all. I tried to regain control of my senses, to remember what Benjamin had said, to remind myself that even love of someone so perfect and complete could not possibly warrant the madness Mio was saying, but as I did, Theodor's voice rang in my ears, and I whispered it to the Warrior.

"What would you do for love?"

"It's a simple enough question," Mio had said to her, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair in the office in the Holy City to which we had come after my return from Romantic.

Faris Scherwiz had run a hand through her hair as she thought it over. She looked lazily over to where I sat with the thinnest veil covering my face. Mio had made me put it on to "disguise" me, but Faris and I both knew that it fooled no one and hid nothing. She cocked one brow as my eyes tried to plead with her, but quickly looked away after that.

"I'd say love is for idiots," she snarled. "It doesn't exist."

"We disagree and are displeased by this answer."

"I'm not done. Love isn't real, you musty pile of rags, and it never was. Desire is, though, and I am nothing, if not a woman who gets what she . . . _desires._"

"And what is it that you desire, Captain Scherwiz?"

"What indeed . . . ? I'll tell you what I want, you dirty sack of laundry. I want to take away the things that other people wanted. I want them to know how I felt when they deprived me of what I wanted, that's what I want."

"What a repulsive desire," Mio commented casually. "We are prepared to offer you this in exchange for your aid."

"My aid?"

"Yes, our offer is simple: We will give you that which you most want in exchange for joining our forces and defeating Matoya."

"And what if I wanted Matoya to survive?"

"We would promise you all the same and fail to fulfill our promise when it came time to settle our accounts."

"What honesty! It's rare to meet a woman who _tells you the truth._"

"We are nothing, if not honest. Would you care to renegotiate?"

"Tell you what: Let's negotiate when the job is done, shall we?"

"A price to be named at a later date? I would have to be foolish or desperate to agree to that."

"The way I see it, you _are_ desperate. And do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because it's not that far from here to the Holy Temple, and if I wanted to, I could inform Cid Lufaine you knew about Matoya and were pursuing her, and I wonder what would happen, then?"

"You would never make it past the front door, Captain."

"You're right, Mio, I wouldn't. Which is why I have left a very specific set of instructions. If I do not leave this room in the next twenty minutes and perform a very specific set of actions, your presence in this world will be revealed to The High Cid."

"You could well destroy yourself doing that."

"I'm prepared to do that, Mio."

"What is to stop me from absorbing you and doing this myself?"

"Do you think I'd make it that easy? The time limit is rapidly approaching, even if you took control of me, you wouldn't have enough time to meet the demands I've left. Tick, tock, mommy. What's it gonna be, huh? All or nothing: I end the entire dream now, or you acquiesce to grant me one favor of my choosing when all of this is done."

"What is to stop me from acquiescing and then denying when the day of payment arrives?"

Faris removed a revolver from within her jacket. Mio seemed unaffected until she pointed it at me. "You see, I figure you could stop this bullet, and I figure you could tank it, Mio, but the little pretty over here in the corner is something else entirely."

"In this world there is no death."

"In THIS world, but the day of payment won't be here, now, will it?"

"You honestly believe you could pull this trick a second time?"

"You let it happen once, so there are limits to even your capabilities in a world you built. I imagine that means it'll be easier, not harder, to pull similar stunts, come the day of payment."

"You are a shrewd businesswoman," Mio scoffed. "We can see no reason to deny you any further. You have what you desire: one desire to be named at a later date. Hurry along, then, won't you?"

"Not so fast, Mio. You see, down here everybody seals their deals with good, old fashioned handshakes. Now come on lady, won't you shake a poor sinner's hand?"

I'd had enough. "Don't do it!" I shouted. "Don't do this, Faris! You don't know what you're getting into!"

Before Mio could react, Faris fired a shot that nicked my cheek. "You had your chance, stupid bitch. You rejected me, just like Bartz did. Mother, here, is a much more accepting individual, I think. I'm done with rejection. I reject the world that rejected me." And with those words, she took Mio's hand. There was a flash, and then the covenant was sealed.

I blame myself. I set Faris up perfectly for a low-frequency Kidd and Mio exploited it. I was stupid to allow her to maneuver so, I admit. But I had no time for tears, for Mio demanded more work from me, and Alfador was only too willing to oblige her on that point.

"For the time being, your goals coincide with hers," he insisted.

"My goal is to strangle her in her sleep," I muttered.

"What violence! Mio would laugh if she heard you. After all, that's exactly what she wants to do to Cid."

"Ugh. UGH UGH UGH. This is so obnoxious! I can't stand her!"

"Losing your nerve, are you? You'll yet give your existence for her in this very world. After a fashion."

"After what fashion?"

"To put it in the least vague way I can? You'll know as soon as she takes you to the Warrior."

And I did. As my lips slid from his ear to his mouth, I knew exactly what Alfador had meant. I wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for the last two visits I made before this one, though. I never would have understood. No amount of explanation could have made me _feel_ what I needed to feel in this moment.

"Can you understand that?" I said to Firion in the Dive Hotel.

"I can. I don't want to, though," he answered me. His eyes were earnest when he said it, too. The closer to the Warrior, and, I suppose, Cid, the echoes become, the purer they get, and Firion was no exception. "You want me to die a horrible, painful death to unlock the seal on a primeval force of destruction, which will be handed over to a madwoman hellbent on killing the only pillar holding up Reality, for the sake of an even more insane woman?"

"Well, yes, but-."

"But it is for the 'greater' good? What good is that? Freedom? Whether it's a ploy by Gods to pacify me or a reward for a lifetime of service to the cause of righteousness, I certainly feel free here."

"But you-."

"But I'm not?"

"You're not."

"I know. I've always known I was not free here." He begins to trace in the air. "It's the flower, isn't it?" He asked. "It's always the flower."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Ms. Gainsborough—no, is it Ms. Gast?—No, Mrs. Fair now, isn't it? Your name has changed several times over the course of this."

"The course of what, Firion?"

"This reality, of course. This isn't the first time you've come to talk me into a scheme to escape."

"What?" I asked, my heart freezing. This was news to me.

"We're stuck, Aerith. We've been stuck for a long time now. Caught in an endless loop. How many times has it been? Two or three? It's always the same, Aerith. You come, begging me to help, and then Chaos and Cosmos clash. Then we all wake up here again, and you've forgotten, and so have I, at first. People like us can't make any changes, because we're a part of the Cycle."

"But the Scholar can, then?"

"Yes. This time things are moving differently. For those who aren't part of the Cycle, the dream is linear, and they are only now to the point which we have repeated several times already. You don't remember this?"

"I don't."

"Then consider this: is it really a coincidence that the Flower Girl has come to see the hero of the Wild Rose?"

"I'm not refuting your point, Firion, but at this stage of the game, it's a matter of asking who's moved the two of us here."

"You don't know, Aerith? It's the same person who's been playing us all. The same man who has pitted his wit against Gods and Greater. Golbez, the Man in Black."

My breath stopped. "What?"

"Golbez has been playing you. He's played all of us. That's the beauty of it. Everyone has underestimated him. Every side of the table has carefully been balanced around him. All of this has been according to his design. Obviously he didn't select all of us for the Cycles, and he had no role in the beginning of this game, but when the players all sat down, they overlooked that one of the pieces had been paying attention the whole time.

"By this, the Seventeenth Cycle, he has mastered the rules and has carefully placed each of us where he wants us. Did you believe his problems this cycle, too? Did you listen to something he told you? I did that once, too. His words are tools, and we are stones he shapes the way he wants. He is as sincere as he is warm. The flowers we're meant to symbolize are a ruse, Aerith. A ploy, meant to keep us in line. Golbez doesn't want a world full of flowers! He just wants to go home."

"That's not true!" I shouted, rising to my feet in anger. "He wouldn't do that! He wouldn't betray us all like that! He wants what we all do: he wants freedom from all of this! He wants to see an end to these wars, just like you and I do! Theodor isn't the monster you all think him! Do the Gods underestimate him? Who are you, then, Firion, to think you haven't?

"Look at you! I don't know if this is the start of the Eighteenth Cycle or Fourteenth, but I do know this: You've lost who or what you were here, Firion! How does the hero of the Wild Rose give in to chains and shackles? Have you never been wrong about something, that you can judge us all and our attempts as futile? You know what makes them futile? You're lack of willingness to participate! Of course we have no success if you keep believing we're trapped in an endless Cycle!"

"Maybe you're right-."

"I AM right! Do you want out of this, Firion? Do you want freedom? Then lend me your strength! Please, Firion. I need your help. I can't do this without your cooperation."

"Aerith. You fell in love with him, didn't you? You've been completely taken in. I said MAYBE you were right. Not that you are. This is Golbez we're talking about. I don't care how hard you've fallen for him, he-."

**SLAP!**

His head did not flinch. He didn't turn aside. He didn't even wince. It was impressive, to say the least. The closer to the Warrior they get, the more like unto Gods they become. His eyes betrayed no fury. They were tranquil, gentle almost. Had this man really slain a demon with his own bare hands?

"I don't give a damn what you think!" I began.

"Because it's true. You're in love with him."

"And what if I am?"

"It makes no difference. You were in love with him last cycle, and the cycle before that, too."

"Oh did I? That's all I am to you, then? Golbez' love-sick plaything, come to do his bidding?"

"Of course. That is all you've been for cycles. Ever since he-."

_**SLAP!**_

"How DARE you! How dare you say that? Who are you, Firion, to judge me?"

"Who are you, Aerith, to use me as your weapon?"

"I'm someone _in love._ And I'm trying, desperately, to save that love."

"Your love will fail. You and he will never be together. And if you think his feelings for you will ever stop him, or give him pause, you're wrong. You don't know Golbez half as well as you think."

"I know Theodor better than anyone else in Heaven or Hell."

"Said the love-struck puppet. You don't know him at all. You don't know the monster that lurks beneath his skin; the man who willingly followed Zemus' every whim."

"And you don't know the man who spent the rest of his life regretting that. Didn't you ever make a mistake as a young man?"

"I never bombed a city."

"And have you never been in love?"

"Love enslaves us all, Aerith."

"Love _conquers_ all, Firion. Love is the wellspring of the freedom you once sought."

"Love is the chain which binds us all in this world, or hadn't you noticed? This is why you have failed and why you continue to fail to set us free, Aerith. You rely on love to free us, but it is love that keeps us all prisoner here!"

"I don't know what you-."

"He loves Her. You wouldn't know it because you've never made it as far as him, but he loves Her completely, and without hope of freedom."

"Who-?"

"The Warrior's love for Cosmos will hold this world, whether you, The Scholar, or Golbez expend all your efforts in breaking free. Chaos' hatred isn't enough, because you're right: The Warrior of Light's love is mightier than Chaos' hatred will ever be. Though you kill Cid and Shinryu, yet will this world persist, because the Warrior loves Cosmos too much to let it change.

"And here, in the dream, Cosmos has found at last an order She can protect. She will never leave this world, because here Her Father is at rest, Chaos and Garland are kept alive, and the Warrior is at peace. She loves them too much to bring them back to a real world where they will feel pain and agony. And your plans all hinge on love so completely that you will never, ever free us.

"All this I have learned, and I will forget again when the cycle ends. I'll discover or remember it all just before you come back here, and then I will tell you it again. And then you leave here, and the Cycle begins anew. This is the Seventeenth Cycle. Do you really think it'll be any different next time?"

"Of course it will." I answered, not entirely sure what I was saying. "Things are different this time, already."

"Are they?"

"Garland is dead."

Firion's face paled. "What?"

"The Scholar's agent, Omega, who is coming here, killed him. And now you've told me what I need to know to beat them all at their game, Theodor included."

"What is that?"  
>"The Warrior. I . . . have to break his heart. I have to stop him from loving Cosmos."<p>

"That . . . could work."

"Then join Omega when she comes. Omega will certainly strike at Cosmos, and then who will the Warrior love? If his love is so strong, then I will wield it, and I will use it to set us all free from this war at long, long last."

"You . . . would sacrifice love for freedom?"

"That's the point of a Kidd, isn't it? To love, and sacrifice her love to save the world."

We spoke for a short time after that, and, as I left, I encountered Omega again. This was perhaps the first time we had ever ran into one another. I remember how could she was, and it was all I could do to keep from crying. I had realized at long last my place in the great game. I'd been proud, to think I could be a player. In the end, I was nothing but a pawn on the board. But I was still a pawn poised to take the queen.

Mio was right, I was a Kidd. I loved a son of Cid, and that love would have to be sacrificed for the greater good. I gave my time with Cloud for that same purpose, and Zack gave his time with me for that as well. But Mio was wrong about one thing. She hoped that in letting go of my love, I would despair, and so become like her, and strengthen her and her cause. This was something I could not allow.

I would be strong in the face of sorrow. I am glad I decided then, for what came not long after was much more difficult to swallow.

"What surprises me," Terra said, after I had persuaded her to join Omega, "is your allegiance to Golbez."

"I don't recall mentioning Theodor," I said.

"You didn't have to. Gossip travels faster than feet."

"Why should a friendship that has been public for some time surprise you?"

"He killed you."

My heart shattered at her words. He . . . killed me? It made sense. Theodor and I had been enemies during the Cycles, but why hadn't he ever mentioned it? Did he still think, after all this time, that I wouldn't forgive him? Was he afraid to lose me? Why hadn't he said anything?

"H-he did, did he? Well, a lot has happened since then. One has to be willing to adapt to survive in today's world and all."

"I don't blame you for not remembering," Terra said. "It was violent, your death." A chill ran down my spine when she said it. Terra had been raised a killer, and so it was normal for her to view such violence dispassionately, but at the same time, it was odd to see a woman, so beloved of so many speak so frankly.

"And you're no stranger to violent deaths, are you?"

"Who is? We all are not strangers to violence at this point."

"But mine made an impact?"

"Not especially. All your deaths have been violent, I think you'll agree."

"I don't see where you're going with this?"

"Gossip isn't the only thing that travels fast here, Aerith. I've consented to your plan, but I have to make sure you're worth it. I'm happy here in Comfortable. And . . . I don't trust Golbez."

"Do you trust me?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out: can I? We've all been hurt, Aerith. Our trust betrayed us all. You have to know that's why we're all so hesitant."

"Who betrayed you?"

"Your memories have been returning, haven't they? So have mine, and the others'. Have you seen Cloud recently? He-."

"Please don't," I said. "Please don't say. I couldn't bear to know it."

"You _have_ to know, Aerith. Cloud remembers what happened. Our memories are coming back to us as Cid stirs in His sleep. You love him, don't you? Or do you love Golbez?"

"Must it be one? Surely you can understand that!"

"It took me a long time just to understand what love was. You've had the gift of the love of many your entire existence. I know hatred, violence, and destruction better than I do love."

"You deny you're torn between them, then? Which Figaro are you wed to, again? And what about Locke? Love isn't a machine. It's not rigid and it doesn't have rules. It's alive, and organic. Love is like roots, that spread ever outward. Is the heart so small a thing that I can only let one man into it?"

"The heart can be a small thing, Aerith, and there are some who haven't got one anymore, or who have killed or had theirs killed. My heart was starved for years."

"So Kefka was right? The heart can be killed?"

"No, Shadow was right. The heart can be thrown away by those who have it. When our hearts are hurt, we choose whether or not we're going to let it die. That's the heart of all of this. You're out to kill a heart, Aerith."

"I am. I have to break the Warrior's to save ours."

"You'll fail. You know you will."

"I have to try, though. I have to make him stop loving Cosmos, to set us free."

"The heart abhors a void. If you remove Cosmos from his heart, what will fill the hole you create? Yourself? You don't love him."

"What do you care?"

"He's the one who betrayed our trust. We all believed he would free us, but then his heart was broken. You've been beaten to the punch, Aerith, by several thousand years. Someone broke the Warrior's heart before putting him here, and when they brought him back into contact with Cosmos, he filled his heart with her, and that's what holds this world together. What can you do to change that?"

"Mio!" I exclaimed. Mio had played a much better game than I'd thought. When she'd broken the heart of the one the Warrior loved, she'd broken his, too. In creating the Kidd on whom all this plan hung, she'd left a hole that Cosmos filled, and the Dream then became self-sustaining. Between Cid's dream and His Son's love, the whole of reality was indestructible. Omega was going to kill the High Cid and end His dream, but if I couldn't break the Warrior's heart, then we'd never be free.

What was it that Mio had said? When a monster casts a sleep spell, what's the easiest way to wake someone up? You hurt them with someone they love. That was how it would happen, then! Mio had provided me with everything I needed to know to undo her. All I had to do was use Cosmos to break the Warrior's heart, and the dream would crumble to pieces.

But what Terra had said bothered me. What would fill the Warrior's heart once I'd cleared it of Cosmos? The woman he loved existed in a world I didn't plan on taking us back to, and Cosmos was a part of a world we were trying to destroy, and bonded to a man who was and would forever after become our enemy. What if he became like Chaos? A monster whose heart was full of hatred and pain, and was expanding to fill with ever more fury until the moment when it emptied and, like a neutron star, collapsed on itself, leaving only a gaping black hole in its place. Could I do that to him? Could I take the one good Son, the one good thing Cid had ever done, and ruin it completely for the sake of all? Could I make one man bear the burden of the salvation of all?

"For love, would you break the heart of one man? For the love of everything else, could you make one man suffer the pain, agony, sorrow, hatred and sin of all others, Terra?"

"I could not. Love is too precious a thing to take away from anyone."

"I could." I said, breathing deeply. "I loved my world. I loved Cloud. But for the world and for Cloud, I was prepared to take Sephiroth's blade and give my life. If this Warrior really is the man we all have been lead to believe, he'd understand that. If he really is the Hero, the Light Warrior, and the end result of all the good works of God, then he will understand the desperate pleas of a people too long tortured by a war they didn't start."

"If you were him, and you were given the choice between your own happiness and the happiness of all others, could you really make that choice, Aerith?"

"I already have," I replied.

As I looked him in the eyes, and urged him, "Show us the Holy Lady, that we might speak to her," and he acquiesced, I reassured myself one last time.

_I already have made that choice._


	28. Chapter 28 Forgiveness and Guilt

_**THE RUINS OF THE HOLY CITY, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.**_

_**THE END HAS COME FOR**_

_**THE MAN IN BLACK.**_

Omega has passed the threshold of the world. She has left the Dream and entered into the Chamber of Sleep, to treat with God. And now a white wall of flaming nothing advances on us at a breath-taking pace. The world is over. The die is cast. The dream has ended, and the Final Cycle is soon to begin. Whatever we had here is gone, or soon will be as the flaming absence of reality consumes it.

Cecil is dead. His death is gone now, and he will soon be waking in the world above. That alone is cause for me to relax and let all this go. I cannot do that, though. There is too much else at stake. There are too many promises I have made. There are too many . . . obligations left to fulfill. To my eternal surprise, there are too many who have placed their hopes on me.

Reality's cessation crosses the burning plains, following its mistress' path. As it does, I remember all that has transpired in these last few days. I remember Gaia's Navel, and a beautiful house which became the scene for the breaking of my heart.

Aerith's garden in Gaia's Navel was not far from her mother's home. As it happened, both Elmyra and Ifalna were home today. I was no stranger to them, as I was no stranger to the gardens. But the sight of me in my armor surprised them. I had always come dressed simply; I do not know if they even knew that Aerith had kept my armor here for some time.

I removed my helmet and saw the relief on their faces when they recognized me. I had come only to retrieve replacements for the parts which Cecil had damaged, but they insisted I come in and have a drink with them. The paopu juice was fresh, they insisted, and while their husbands were out, there simply was too much for the two of them to drink alone.

Thinly veiled as the excuse was, I acquiesced, and entered the residence. I seated myself while Ifalna poured, and steeled myself for the conversation ahead. These two women were a great part of why Aerith was the woman she was, and, knowing her, there was no doubt the two of them combined were more keen and cunning than I could ever hope to be.

"It's been so long, Theodor," Elmyra said. "We haven't seen you recently."

"I have been . . . away for some time."

"So has Aerith. Zack's worried about her."

"Cloud is too," Ifalna added.

Elmyra scowled, "She isn't any of his concern."

"But they're in love." Ifalna protested, her expression more innocent than her words.

"She's _married_ to Zack."

"I never have understood why that prevented her from being with Cloud, too. Especially since Cloud and Zack are such good friends."

"How would you feel if Gast and I slept together?"

"I'd be jealous of course!"

"See!?"

"That I wasn't invited!"

Elmyra blushed. She was flustered only momentarily though, before masterfully redirecting the conversation back to me. "You haven't seen her recently, have you, Theodor?"

"No. I have not seen her since . . . what do they call it now? The Day of Cid."

"Oh you saw her on the Day of Cid?" Ifalna asked. "How odd. Cloud and Zack looked all over the assembly for her, but could not find her."

"They were there that day?"

"Yes, they'd been summoned to provide security by Cosmos Herself. And the oddest thing was that they said another security guard said he saw her heading down to the detention center."

"Where did you say you saw her that day?" Elmyra asked.

It was too soon to be cornered, though. "Oh, I saw her that morning, near the gardens in the city. I had no idea she had business at the actual Council that day."

"You didn't go?"  
>"Unfortunately, no, I was <em>detained<em> that morning. I had a prior engagement."

"Oh? How unfortunate. How are things between the two of you these days?"

"Aerith always blushes when she talks about you," Ifalna contributed.

_Oh_, I thought, _Is that how we're playing this?_ "Things are fine, of course. No news is good news, they say. So as far as I can tell, we're still on good terms. But life has been very busy lately, and I suppose it has for her, too."

"Times are rather busy, aren't they? Do you miss her?"

This time it was I who blushed and felt flustered. Even Alfador had not been able to get such a reaction out of me, especially not in so little time. I took a long drink from the glass before responding. "Who does not miss their friends when they are apart for so great a length of time?"

"Absence _does_ make the heart grow fonder, Elmyra."

"Indeed. Are you still a bachelor, Theodor? Aerith tells us your brother has been married for a long time. It doesn't do for a man to be alone in Heaven."

"It's poor etiquette," Ifalna added, "Especially when some men have more than one wife."

"A select few."

"Dorgan Klauser does."

"The Klausers are an odd bunch."  
>"And an exceptionally popular lot at that."<p>

"But what about you, Theodor? Is there no one . . . special in your life?"

"Who, me? Not really, no."

"Which sounds a lot like 'yes, but I'm too shy to say who'." Elmyra teased. If one can tease with poisoned barbs.

"Well I would not say it precisely like that-."

"-but of course there's no politer way of saying it."

"Oh, I disagree," Elmyra stated. "I think he could say it a lot more politely. Evasiveness is disrespectful, Theodor."

"Evasiveness?"

"Why don't you come out and say it?" Ifalna said, running her finger along the rim of her cup.

"Say what?"

"That you are in love with our Aerith."

"I am unsure whence this claim originates," I replied as mechanically as I could.

"It's as obvious as the fact that she cares about you, too."  
>"I must protest. I haven't the slightest-."<p>

"Ah-ah!"Ifalna interrupted, "Evasiveness is impolite, remember?"

"Almost as impolite as wooing a married woman," Elmyra said.

"Oh, now, I think it's a sign of how successfully we raised her. She's so viable that many men want her."

"She can only have one."  
>"That's the human way, perhaps, but among the Cetra it is not so, and she is as much a Cetra as she is a human."<p>

"And she is as much a human as she is a Cetra."

"And Theodor here is not any more human than she is."

"Oh?"

"I am the son of a Lunarian and a human."

"Half-breeds are a common enough thing," Elmyra commented. "Isn't that Figaro woman one, too?"

"Terra? She is half Esper, yes."

"Strange, that."

"But you're a clever turner of topics, aren't you?" Ifalna chided. "And you haven't even come out and told us how you feel about our daughter."

"The truth is, we've been meaning to have this talk with you for some time, Mr. Harvey."

"Have you, now? What a pity that I was unaware for so long."

"Indeed," Responded Elmyra tersely, "As you must be aware, Aerith's love-life is already somewhat . . . complicated. Principally for a married woman."

"More to the point, though, is your own complicated social situation."

"My social situation? Forgive me, madams, if this is the first time I've heard anyone suggest I so much as _have_ one."

"And not without reason."

"It must be difficult to have friends, mustn't it, poor thing? Being known as the Scourge of Baron doesn't help, does it?"

My stomach turned. Aerith's mothers were nice women, but I was not apt to respond favorably to any statements concerning my own blood-stained past. And why should I? I myself was ashamed of that time. So soon after Cecil's stinging reproach, the scorn of these women would not fall easily upon me. "Neither," I said, beating them to the punch, "does my debt to Chaos."

"Which makes you her enemy, doesn't it?"

"All Heaven's enemy, at that, I would think."

"And yet here I am, in the gardens, where I have come and left without harm or mishap for some time now."

"Oh yes, it would be rather difficult for you to do any harm to our Aerith or her gardens when her husband and her lover were both here."

"You're too subtle a man to do anything when Zack and Cloud are present, aren't you?"

"But now that they're gone off to fight Chaos' army, the army in which you are a part, we must wonder."

"Where is our daughter?"

"And why have you come here today?"

"And what have you involved her in?"

"Have you been trying to persuade her to leave this comfortable home and garden, and two men and family that love her for what, exactly?"

"Which," I interrupted them, missing my helmet dearly as my face reddened, "is the meat of this entire interrogation, isn't it?"

"Interrogation?" Ifalna asked, demonstrating the false innocence of which Aerith was mistress, "I thought we were sharing a lovely conversation about a woman we all loved?"

Elmyra, of course, flaunted the iron will that Aerith had long since learned to cover with Ifalna's sweet, if exotic, mannerisms. "We want to know what you want with our daughter."

"What I want?"

"And what you can offer her. _This_ is her home and her world. This garden is Aerith. She's a living, organic thing. She has a family here. Her friends are all here, her work is all here. Her husband is here. Her protector is here. Look around out there, Mr. Harvey. Flowers, farther than the eye can see. That's the world Aerith has built. You, though?"

"Cold," Ifalna said, "like the metal you've taken for your skin. A false calm which masks your rage, like your iron helmet masks your face. Life suits you as well as it did the barren, cold, and rocky moon on which your fathers dwelt. You go with her as well as a sword goes with a seed."

"And yours is the path of Chaos. Yours is the path of strife and hatred and war forever. You are the sworn foe of everyone she has ever known and loved. Why, then, have you so hounded our daughter for all this time? What do you want?"

I showed them something which I believe few people have ever seen. I smiled at them. As I did, their own expressions soured considerably. They only worsened as I spoke. "And if I said all I have ever desired is to deflower your deflower girl? To lie with her in an animalistic, ravishing display of passion so violent and twisted it would best be compared to razing this whole garden to the ground?" They paled.

"But what if sex alone isn't horrific enough? Oh no, what if to pluck the flower girl's flower wasn't enough for the Scourge of Baron? What if after that, I manipulated her the way I've manipulated the hearts of so many others, and turned her against those she's loved? Control is something I so desperately need, you know. To revel in her body is not enough, but to rape her mind and soul would grant me the utmost satisfaction, I suppose.

"Can you imagine it? No more would she sow seeds in the mists of Heaven, but she would light flames across Hell. And what if I were to slap you and the men you so honor completely, and give her what she has for so long been denied? What if I wanted Aerith because I want a son? An heir I can raise and mold in my image once I have at last broken her completely. What if, once I had that son, I discarded her and left her to be the Whore of Hell and to be mother of demons ever after, too ashamed to return home?

"What if I told you that I had killed her once during one of the wars between Chaos and Cosmos, and that seeing her here, alive and well, has caused an obsession, a madness inside me which can only be quelled when I sink my fingers into that tender throat of hers. A lust for intimacy that can only be slaked when I see the life go out of her eyes and feel her body limp against my own?

"Would this satisfy your suspicions? Would you feel justified in your hatred of me? Would you feel assured that your assessment of this man was correct? That I am everything you knew I was, and that that made me inferior to the men she already has, and therefore reaffirmed your worldview?

"But then, what if that's not true? What if I love her deeply, and seek only to make her happy? What if I honored the confidence she placed in me when she told me what she has told no other, that she sows and cultivates the land because no seed has ever taken root in her? What if all I have ever desired for her was her own happiness, even above my own, or above all of Heaven? What if I said I was more than prepared to forsake friend, family, allegiance and identity for this flower girl who has so completely enchanted me from the time we first met?

"Would that stem the tide of your lying tongues? Would it shame you so deeply to know that your beloved, pure daughter had so confided in such a lowly creature as I? Would you quiver at night to know that the Holy maiden had been every bit as physically involved with the nefarious man in black as he had been with her? How would you sleep at night, knowing your daughter had opened her heart and her loins to someone you so fully hated and so completely misjudged?"

Elmyra had gone red, and I could tell from the way she shook she was close to striking me, and Ifalna had paled to a shade of white that was nearly blue. Both of them sat stunned by what I had said. I myself would have been shocked, and to confess fully was later very shocked that I had so vulgarly spoken. But I was furious. The accusations, the implications, the arrogance I had never expected from such lovely women had driven me to say things I had perhaps not meant to say and have since come to regret.

I terminated the conversation by rising to my feet and saying, "What I want for your daughter, and what I offer her that no one else offers, is _reality_. Aerith is too good a woman to waste in a dream. She deserves to have the _real_ love of her friends and family. She deserves to feel the real world, to plant real flowers, and to create real life."

That was the last I saw of them. Standing there, gazing into the collapsing walls of the Dream, it dawned on me that they were both gone already. For better or worse, Elmyra and Ifalna and Gast and all of them were gone. Every flower Aerith had ever planted in the dream had long since been burned away. They'd crumbled the moment Omega had entered the door to World C.

By now, I suppose, the flames had already destroyed Anna, too. I had left Gaia's Navel to make this last visit knowing that the world would end, and determined to do what I had never before been able to do. I went to apologize to the woman who symbolized all that I had ever done wrong in my life. I went to see Tellah's daughter.

Perhaps it was motivated by their conversation, perhaps it was because of my confrontation with Tellah, or perhaps it was because I knew I would never again have such a chance. Whatever the case, I knew it had to be done. She dwelt in Comfortable, like so many others, with Edward, the first of his two wives. The latter was Harley, his former secretary. Anna was gracious enough to consent to speak to me alone, and we walked around outside the Damcyan manor as we spoke.

"I did not think you would come," I said.

"No? I had begun to wonder if you would, too."

"If I would come to speak to you? Had you some prior warning?"

"No, but I have been waiting for you to come for a very long time now," she said, looking at me. I had come without my armor this time, dressed only in the purple and red robes of the Lunarian.

"I . . . have not." I said. "I suppose, in a way, I have been running from this day for a very, very long time."

Anna took my hand in hers. When she saw the surprise on my face, she said, "Who hasn't been? I knew it was coming, and I've been waiting for it, but I ran at first. The waiting just means I'd stopped running away. You at least had the courage to come. Even I didn't have that."

"Courage? I do not know that I would call this that."

"You are free to call it what you will, Golbez." I flinched when she said it, but she made conciliatory sounds, "You must cease to flee from that name, too. Until you accept that you are both Golbez and Theodor Harvey, we can never be at peace."

"We?"

"I was angry, for a long time, Golbez. I won't deny that. You took away my life and robbed me of my future with Edward, and I was angry about that. When you absented yourself from any gathering where I was sure to be, my anger only grew. It was all I could do to keep from screaming when you avoided me the entire night of Drogan Klauser's party. I was . . . so angry."

"And you deserved to be."

"At first I was angry because of what you did. Because you took away my life, and my father wasted what was left of his, and yet you lived. Then I was angry because you ran away from me. All your life you ran, and after death you still avoided me, and deprived me of an outlet for my rage. Then I was angry because I was angry, and in the end, I was angry for no reason.

"That's when I finally understood you. I understood the rage you'd felt when you bombed Damcyan, and the anger that had propelled you for so long. I understood the fury you'd had bottled up and how you'd had no acceptable means of venting. I understood you, I thought, but I was wrong."

"No, you were correct. Anger has defined me for as long as guilt and shame combined."

"But guilt and shame and anger aren't all there is to you, Golbez. I wanted to know you, since I couldn't talk to you, so I set out to find out. None of Cecil's friends really knew you, and your parents and uncle couldn't say. I'd have gone on not knowing, had Fusoya not taken me to meet one of your fiends.

"Scarmiglione, his name was. He was repulsive, in every physical way possible. But Scarmiglione told me something that nobody else seems to know, Golbez. That when you were small, you never cared about how hideous he was. You still befriended him, and treated him with love and respect. The others under your command all said similar things. If you could truly grow to love monsters like them, I've realized, then you aren't the monster that everyone says you are."

"Forgive me," I stammered, "But I am not worthy of such praise. What I did is unpardonable, and no soul should ever be required to think otherwise. In an act of sheer malice I rained hellfire and devastation on the kingdom you longed to call home, and my men filled you with the arrows that stole away your life. How different we were, even then. You, who bravely took the arrows for the one you loved, and I cowering behind my display of bravado.

"I am a horrible and vile creature, and I deserve not the kindness you have shown me. I am evil and base in nature, and I always have been. What I took from you I cannot ever replace. I have brought you nothing but misery and pain, and no apology will ever be enough for that. I do not so much as dare ask you to forgive a worm like me.

"But saying no apology would suffice is no excuse not to apologize. Though it be an insult to you for the great evil I have done, yet must I do so. I am sorry, Anna. I am well and truly sorry for what I did to you. To ALL of you. Not a day goes by that I don't remember it—the sight of Damcyan, the flames rising from the Kingdom of Fire. Not one day goes by that I do not remember the horrors I unleashed across the world. The Giant's face is always there when I close my eyes, and Zemus' whispers will haunt me for all time and eternity. Even so, this is not enough.

"I am sorry, Anna. I am the man who took your life, and your father's life, and the life of friends and future family from you. I am the Scourge of Baron, the Fifth Fiend, and Clad in the Darkness. I am the Giant of Babil, the one born of the Dragon's Corpse. I am all the evil that hatred spawns, and I am sorry that I have been so great a coward that I have run from you for all this time. I am sorry for the anger and grief I caused. I can never set right what I have done wrong, but I am sorry for it all the same. Anna, I-."

Then she placed a finger to my lips. I was surprised, and unsure of what to do. And then, with three words, she leveled me in a way no blow ever could. With one sentence she bound up a wound that I did not know could be healed. In three simple words, this woman of the desert did what I never could. In three words, Anna set everything right.

She took my hands, looked me in the eyes, and said, "You are forgiven."

And I was defeated. I sank to my knees, and could do no more than wash her feet with my tears. I shook and sobbed and wept like a child. My bones felt as if they were made of rubber, and my flesh burned with a warmth I had all but forgotten. She sank onto her haunches, and spoke yet further.

"You are forgiven, Theodor Harvey. Your penance is accepted. I forgive you, you poor soul. Can you ever forgive me?"

And I wept further. Whatever else you may think of this Dream, finder of the Report, let me tell you that this one moment validated its existence. For the first time in eons, I felt free. I felt clean. I felt equal to all other men. In three simple words, this woman had broken chains forged with all the artful cunning of a master manipulator of men. In three words, Anna broke Zemus' curse forever.

I could not answer her, but my sobs were indication enough. She embraced me, and, resting her head atop my own, where I yet slumped upon the ground, she whispered to me, "Now go. Go and live the life you lost. I have gone and lived mine, and found the one I love. Go, Golbez, and live yours, and find the one you love."

From there I had recollected myself and headed out meet with the rest of Chaos' army. I could at last face the uncertainty of the end of the world with peace. As the walls crashed down closer and closer to where I stood, I felt relieved. I had done all I needed to do. I had gotten the message to Omega.

Serah Farron was a sight to behold when she reached the entrance to the holy city. She was drenched in blood, but her hair had turned pale white. Her eyes were open and tired. At her side was Omega Weapon, the sword which was vying with her for dominance of her badly broken psyche. This was the dagger that the Scholar had crafted to point at Cid Lufaine's heart, and I was going to let her go by without any hassle whatsoever.

Well, almost any.

"So, she still recognizes us, eh?" Jecht asked.

"Hard to forget the guy who threatens to rape you graphically," she said. Was this really the girl so many said was sweet and kind and a teacher of children?

"Beg yer pardon missy," Jecht retorted, "but I've got a villainous reputation to uphold."

"Right, whatever," she spat. "Just get the Hell out of my way."

"Let's not be so hasty," I said, approaching her. "You look tired. Allow me to give you something," I backhanded her with my gauntlet, "a GIFT." I knocked her to the ground, then extended a hand to help her up.

She rejected, and demanded, "The HELL was that for?"

"You did just kill my brother, nephew, and a close family friend. I would say that barely makes us temporarily even." I wanted her to keep talking for awhile. I needed her distracted and off guard when I planted the seed. The question was, which? Judging from her appearance, the girl was unstable. Any command sufficiently inserted would be carried out. The Scholar had truly done a number on her.

"Your brother was a deranged puppet in Cosmos' game." She seethed. Such rage, such fury!

"Fair enough," I replied. "He cannot appreciate the fullness of what is being done for him. Which is why we've come to talk to you for a minute."

"Me? Help your brother? Hello? I just _killed_ him."

"True, but he has been taken into the 'fourteenth' cycle. A war that shouldn't be happening. Cosmos' warriors won the thirteenth one. None of us should even be here."

Here eyes widened momentarily, as if surprised. If a false revelation could do this, I feared for what she would soon undergo. This was the girl upon whom all our hopes would ride? This gamble was too great.

"Why should I help you two? You threatened to rape and kill me!"

"Again," I explained, "We have appearances to maintain. We have friends and family caught up in this war. We want what you want: to help the ones you love."

"And, little missy," Jecht added, "It won't cost you a thing."

"Don't." She said, "Just don't. Just get out of my way before I kill you both."

"This would bother us, how?" I asked, looking to Jecht, who shrugged appropriately. Her interests were piqued, and she turned back to me.

"Gods, if it means you'll be out of my face sooner, let's hear it."

"Our request is two-fold," I said, ignoring Jecht's nettling of her. "First, that you do not mention this meeting to anyone henceforth." This was the crucial moment. All I had to do was tell her to believe in a real world, and we would go home. The dead to their graves, the living to the streets we had abandoned for this realm of sleep. All I had to do was tell her to choose reality, to reject the dream and accept herself and we would be free. But to do that, I would be forsaking what Aerith had worked so hard for. This was the moment I could choose to spite Alfador's machinations and exert my own, or I could be true to my heart.

What did _I_ want? Free at last of the weight of a thousand years, and a million souls, what would I now do with my freedom? It must have been a fit of madness which over took me then, but, looking back on it, it was an insanity I welcomed. My heart fluttered as I at last decided.

"More to the point, to our buddies who will be ambushing you inside the City."

"And second, and more importantly, that you remember this: A world full of flowers. Yours and mine. A world inherited by the meek, and maintained by peace. This is the world we ask you to remember." Aerith was dead in the worlds above. Reality would deprive her of what she could have. Reality would put Anna back in the grave. Reality would leave me alone on a cold, barren stone drifting forever in the dark. Reality would give the Warrior to Cosmos, and Mio would be unleashed again on the worlds. No, reality was not the option.

"I've never heard something so stupid."

"We ask you only to remember the concept. Oh, and one name: Ramza Beoulve." Guilty over my selfish choice, I engineered the one chance of circumventing it all. The choice would be taken from the hands of all we who had schemed, and placed into the hands of all life, and the odds would be stacked in Ramza's favor.

"Who?"

"He is, shall we say, a player in our game."

"What game?"

"Now see, kid, that's the wrong question."

"True, it would have been better for you to ask "which" game. There are so many now. Technically."

"Don't even get me started," Jecht groaned, "I'm an ace and even I'm confused at this point. There's what, ours, that one chick from the bar's," he said, more to throw off Omega than anything. The chick from the bar is of course Aerith, whose game is our own. Almost her game and mine separated, but, for nothing more than the foolish, fleeting fancy of so-called love, I have elected to stay on her table. "Chaos', Cosmos', the Big Guy's," assuming he meant Cid and Shinryu as one, "The Big Gal's, and the other guy's, did I miss anyone?"

"Probably," I lied, "But there are some games where the players have already folded. I cannot say for certain whose cards are still in play."

"Hey!" Omega barked, "You two song-birds done singing, or do I have to keep standing here wondering what the Hell you're talking about?"

"Huh? No, not really," Jecht said. "We're not too keen on playing all of our cards, either."

The conversation petered out from there. I remember the last I saw of her. She was definitely unwell. It was certainly in the best interest of this world to end. She represented all that had gone wrong in the Dream. I will not deny the possibility that her pathetic state influenced my decision. A world full of flowers would free her from these pains as easily as it would the rest of us.

The walls of reality collapsed just some feet away from me when Jecht spoke up, putting a hand on my shoulder. "It's going to work out. You'll see. We're gonna get through this, and we're gonna make this work."

"This may be the first time I ever agree with you," Kuja snorted, coming up on my other side. "Whatever happens next, we will be with you for it, Golbez. It's time we all got the happy ending we've been working for."

"Then we are in agreement?" I asked, "To move forward with the next phase of the operation?"

"Of course we are," Jecht said. "I want my son to be happy."

"I want to feel the wind on my face once more."

"I want to touch the real world again," I said.

"I'm so sorry." The Cloud of Darkness said from behind me. I turned to face her as reality came toppling down on me. I could see nothing more than her face, and that only poorly. The last thing I heard before waking up was "But we-I am not sure."

Then the flames engulfed me and reality crashed down on top of me. The Dream had at long last ended, and Mio's spell had broken. I was going to wake up. Like any dream, it began to slip away from my conscious memory. By midday would I even remember it? No, I thought, wait, I can still . . .

"I'm so sorry," she said. What did that mean?


	29. Chapter 29 Stay and Go

_**THE BASE OF THE THRONE, WORLD C.**_

_**THE END HAS COME FOR**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL**_

"You and I are sleeping down there," I told him, gesturing to the roiling waters beneath us. We were climbing the long distance to the top of Cid Lufaine's throne, where we would rendezvous with Mio during her attempt to deprive Omega of Absolute Virtue and unite her with Alpha. The Warrior and I were moving at a casual stroll, my arm hooked around his own.

"We're sleeping?"

"Yes, but soon we will wake up. See how the water stirs? Look closely."

"Th-there are people down there!"

"Yes. Everyone is down there."

"Everyone? What do you mean?"

"Every last person who has ever lived or died is down there. Somehow Mio managed to bring the bodies of the dead to life to build the Dream. Do you understand now? The world outside this chamber was false. You do know that, don't you?"

"But, it felt real to me."

"It did to me, too. But doesn't this room feel more real than the one outside it?"

"Yes. It's hard to explain, but things DO feel different here."

"That's because we're different here. Our sensations are numbed here for three reasons. First, because we are still asleep. Even so, we can notice the difference. The second reason is because this world is still far below the Real World."

"And the third?"

"Because your Father is still sleeping."

"My . . . father?"

"Think back, what do you remember?"

"I remember only the world outside this one. No, that's not true—I remember a world other than this, where I defended Cosmos from Chaos. And I remember . . ."

"A field of endless flowers, stretching beyond you, don't you?"

"Yes. A world green and verdant. Not like Heaven, and not like the barren wastes where I was . . . born? I was born in that wasteland?"

"Yes. You were born far above here."

He looked upward into the flaming sky where Omega was engaging Cid Lufaine. "Above here? What is above here?"

"An endless wasteland and a dying world. You were born there. Your father brought you there to defend Cosmos."

"And my mother?"

"You have no mother. You are a clone of Cid Lufaine, who is God."

"I-I what?"

"I know this sounds mad, but please, you must believe me. No, you must remember. Think, Warrior, what is your name? The name the woman you loved gave you in that barren wasteland?"

"She called me . . . Mid. Yes, Mid. I have not remembered that in . . . a very long time. I have been just the Warrior, or Sol for so long."

"Yes, you have. But you left the wasteland. Do you remember that? You had friends there, and together you escaped to the world above. To the real world. Do you remember that?"

"I . . . why is this so hard to remember? I . . . I remember shapes."

"Describe them to me."

"They're vaguely erect. One of them, part of it is red. And, I remember feelings. Warmth, and the smell of salt masked by some kind of perfume. It was . . . smooth and I was . . . so happy. What . . . what is all this?"

"Roughly five thousand years before you were born, in a different world, there lived a man named Cid. Cid and his wife were happy together, but their nation was at war. Their son, Garland, became a monster in that horrible war. Cid was a kind man, though, and he tried to take his wife and son and his son's friend, Cosmos, and flee."

"Cosmos and Garland were . . . friends?"

"Something went wrong, and Cid's wife was shot. As she lay dying, Garland became Chaos and tore open a hole in the fabric of their world, which pulled Cid, Cosmos and him into the barren wastes into which you were born. There, the Chaos who was Garland met a man named Garland who had yet to become Chaos. This is the first paradox.

"Cid and Shinryu arranged a war between Chaos and Cosmos to free Cid from that world, so he could return home. At some point, though, Cid realized his error, and created you. He realized all the wrong he had done, and so he brought you into that horrible world in the hopes you would correct it. If you sided with his son, Chaos, then Cosmos would surely die, and Cid's hopes would be dashed, and he would be destroyed as punishment for his crimes. If you defended Cosmos, he would hold on to hope.

"As you fought Chaos again and again, Cid must have realized the truth: that you were in some ways superior to both him and Chaos, and so he released you from the war, at the cost of his own son. When you reached the world above, you met with the Garland who was not yet Chaos, some five thousand years after Cid had lived. You killed him.

"As he died, this man called Garland was brought to the wasteland where you were born by the Garland who had become Chaos. When you slew Chaos in that world, it sent the dying Garland back to a point in time two thousand years before your arrival. There, he became Chaos, and sent the fiends forward two thousand years, so they could send him back. This was the Second Paradox.

"You traveled with others and slew the fiends, then went back two thousand years to stop Chaos again. You slew him, and in so doing, prevented your entire journey. This was the Third Paradox. Then, Mio seized her opportunity and thrust you into this dream, where she used Cosmos to make you forget everything and keep you passive. These paradoxes have converged, along with Shinryu's purification, to rob you of your memories."

"But I do remember things!"

"Yes, because it's all beginning to unravel. You've been sleeping and dreaming longer than any of us, Warrior, but it is time you woke up all the way."

"Why? What if I chose to go back to the Dream?"

"The Dream is gone now. Soon it will be gone all the way. The only way out is up."

"Understood. Wake me, then."

"It will hurt. Are you certain?"

"What? Isn't this the entire reason you came here? To wake me up? If you don't, won't Mio get what she wants?"

"I'm going to break your heart, Warrior. Several times. Perhaps beyond repair. And though we've been together for a very short time, I cannot do this to you unless I know it is what _you_ want."

"What . . . I want? No one has ever asked me that before."

"Then let me ask you: What would you do for someone you loved?"

"For Cosmos I would do anything. Including this. Wake me up."

"God forgive me for what I do to your Son," I said. Alfador was the one doing it, in truth, but he had asked me not to reveal him to the Warrior. I pressed my hand to the Warrior's forehead, and watched as a moment later he began to scream.

"Ah! I . . . I remember the last cycle! Terra, Cecil, Firion, Tidus, Cloud . . . all my friends! We were free! How did we wind up here again? I remember it. Chaos killed Cosmos. So if we go back, that means that she will-!"

"Yes, that is possible. It is possible that Cosmos will die if we continue. It is possible that so will I. I'm not done yet. All I have done is restored your memories of where you where before Mio's spell struck. Do you remember where you were?"

"I was in a field, watching my friends leave, facing a castle."

"That is the real world. You continued from there, but when you slew Chaos, you were sent back to that moment, and then Mio's spell put you to sleep. Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes." He said, taking my hand in his. "I can keep going. Yes, continue."

"Forgive me for what I do to you."

He screamed again, and this time coughed up blood. His veins became visible, and he broke into a cold sweat. "Cosmos, how could you?" He asked.

"I have broken your heart," I said as coldly as I could. "I have restored all your memories back to the time of your birth. Shinryu's power is lost over you, now. Now you remember everything Cosmos did to you, correct?"

"She . . . she abandoned me. She left me to die!"

"She did not do so maliciously."

"But she still DID! She used all of us! She sent us to our deaths! And she never told me what I had forgotten. She withheld my very name from me."

"Do you still love her?"

"I? I . . . I don't know. No, I suppose I don't."

"Then what would you do for love, Warrior? I've taken away the woman you loved, and torn away the illusion that she, a clone of the woman who has robbed you of all your memories, is a part of the pain you have known since God first placed you on solid ground."

"I have to know. I have to know everything."

"If I continue, you will suffer yet more heartbreak. Are you sure you want to continue? Turning away now is not an act of cowardice. Even I am terrified. Terrified of who I am becoming by doing this to you. You will only find more pain if we continue. I don't want to hurt you."

"Not knowing will hurt more than knowing!" He coughed. "I've forgotten so much! Please, help me! I don't know who or what I am anymore. I feel it—something important on the edge of my memories. Please, give it back to me!"

I felt lower than the Scholar and Mio combined. "Please forgive me for what we're asking of you." Neither of them would ever have gone this far. This was the Son of God. The one perfect man, who had dwelt at last free of the agony he had known all his life. And I was breaking him for my own selfish reasons. I was destroying him for a world that I wanted, and not the one he deserved. Even if I claimed that the World Full of Flowers would be happier for him, could I justify this?

He screamed in agony as we began again. He fell on his face and simply writhed until it was over. I began to cry openly.

"I remember the real world," he cried. "I remember my struggle with Chaos and his fiends. I remember my comrades. I remember King Stephanus, Matoya, Bikke, Bahamut, the Elves, Onrac, the Lufaine, Lhukan, and Unne. I remember the real world. Biggs and Wedge, my two best friends, and I remember there was a woman I loved very much."

"Do you remember that you loved her, or do you remember your love?"

"I remember everything except her."

"When I restore those memories, it will break your heart one last time. Are you sure you want to continue?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Once, there was a lonely God, and He was so lonely He tore Himself to pieces. I don't want to be like that."

"But you're going to take away the one I love and leave me that way?"

"Yes. I could give you nobler explanations, but to be honest, in the end that is what this comes down to: I would destroy you completely to avoid that fate. Especially now that I know the full consequences of that God's actions."

"Then continue."

"What?"

"Could you exist knowing that you couldn't remember the one you so deeply loved? Kill me or let me know. I must know."

"Thank you," I said, putting my hand to his head one last time. He did not writhe, nor shout this time. He only laid there, limp as his body heated. It grew so hot I had to remove my hand. When I did, he sat up and spoke.

"I remember her. I remember Elena. I remember the way she smiled, and the sound of her voice," he said, looking considerably happier himself, "The smell of her breath and the feel of her skin. She-."

"Is dead." I said.

"What?"

"We have been down here for hundreds of years."

"And she?"

"Mio left her awake up there. She's been dead for a long time."

"No . . ."

"Yes. The women you loved either betrayed you or died. The man who created you did so as a means of punishing himself. I have done this to you with the express purpose of breaking your heart. So let me ask you, one last time, Warrior of Light, what will you do now? Now that I have deprived you of it, like all others, I must ask you: What will you do for love?"

He sighed. "If you were me, what would you do?"

"I would die. I would have died much sooner."

"All I know is how to kill. To destroy. To fight. I have been a Warrior for too long. I don't need titles. I don't care to be the Son of God, the Warrior of Light, or the Hero. I don't need to be Mid, either, I suppose. Whatever the woman I loved called me would suffice. Names are for people who have something, and you have taken away everything I had.

"But you're wrong."

"What?" I asked, surprised to see him standing up.

"You haven't broken my heart."

"I, what?"

"You can't break a heart. You can't destroy something that strong. I can still feel her. The woman I love is still alive. And it is time I set this all right."

"Set it right? What do you mean?"

"See the sky? It's stopped raining. It's getting dark now. My father is waking up soon. It's time I cleaned up after my parents, and made right this entire mess."

"Then-?"

"You asked what I would do for love, right?" I nodded and he said, "What a stupid question. No, rather, it's not the question, it's the answer. What will I do? I will love."

I followed him up the winding way to where Cid was dying. When the end came, I could hear her scream. The scream of a woman who had at long last lost everything. The men she had loved had finally been taken from her by the ones she had known would take them all along. I wish I could have taken it as a sign that Mio's plans were done, but I knew it was just the beginning of her madness. From here, things would only get worse. But I suppose that that had nothing to do with me anymore.

"Shall I introduce myself?" Alfador asked, materializing near the top of the stairs.

"If you think you ought to." I replied.

"No, he doesn't need to," The Warrior said.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Because I know who you are already."

"Oh? Who am I, then?"

"The Cheshire cat." Then, motioning for me to follow, "Come along Alice, it's time we met the Queen of Hearts."

"We are pleased that you have gotten this far, Etrosian Princess," Mio said. "For a time, we worried that you would not make it."

"Gogo," snarled the son of Gilgamesh. What are you here for?"

"To put an end to all which we have seen to be wrong."

"Which is everything, no doubt," Omega said. She was bleeding all over, her body battered and broken. It was a miracle she was still alive.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Too late," she sneered. "Absolute Virtue is gone. Make like the rest and get yourself into 'the next cycle' so we can have our peace."

"Oh no," Goegnuo mocked, "You are misinformed. Absolute Virtue was a diversion. Cleverly crafted, I give you that, but a diversion nonetheless."

"Oh fun, more revelations. If you have any more up your sleeve, let's have them out now, so I can die without a headache."

"You certainly maintain a healthy spirit, for one whose spirit is swiftly deteriorating, Oersteddian Queen. But in honor of the requests of the dying, I'll lay bare my hands. Where to start, though?"

"Wait, 'I'? What happened to the plural nouns?"

"Not necessary any longer," Mio said, shrugging. "Now save your strength. Here comes the exposition. It likely won't be a very wordy one. After all the rants you've been through, I promise to keep it brief. Now, if only I could determine where to begin."

"You could begin by leaving," Gilgamesh said.

"Oh, no, I'm afraid that I can't. Ah! Let's begin with the most frustratingly cliché, shall we? The revelations."

Mio snapped her fingers, and the Warrior, Alfador and I stepped into the small circle of remaining light. The remnant of Serah Farron, bonded to Omega, barely even rolled her eyes. We had run into one another several times, and it hadn't been pleasant so far. Now that I could see her, though, I felt only pity. She looked so tired.

Mio removed the rags from around her face, and I saw her for the first time. To my great surprise, I saw the same sorrow and weariness on her face. Mio was old, and tired, and so very, very frail looking. Was this the same monster who had smothered us all into this place? Of course, her husband had just died. Her bloodshot eyes revealed that she had been crying.

"Goegnuo is not two people, but three," Mio said, hinting at the truth about the amalgam of Serah and Omega. "Gogo, who serves as the host body, normally. Enuo, who gave us a vital infusion of power and drive, and Mio, the present and dominating persona. Go, then g, for Gogo. En, then u, for Enuo. And just one o for Mio. Go-Egnu-O."

"You're Cid Lufaine's wife!" Gilgamesh shouted. I was surprised to learn that they had discovered this much. Who could've told them? Alfador, perhaps?

"Indeed, I am her. Or rather, I am a composite of Mio as well as the memories of all the women whose persona she usurped over the years. I survived for a long time jumping from one woman's brain to the next, nibbling away at the corners of her memories. For a time, I made use of Raem, who helped me clear space in women's brains faster and faster. Unfortunately, every jump brought a snippet of some other woman along, and eventually, things got a bit heavy."

"At which point you died, I suppose?"

"Inasmuch as I ever could die, but that's beside the point. The point is, just like Cid, I've been looking for my family. And when I found Cid, I found him beyond saving, as well as my son. They were already caught up in this situation," she punctuated it with a gesture which unfortunately implied the dream, and not their attachment to humanity. "I won't bore you with the truth about reality and history, so suffice it to say that when I found my husband and son, they were beyond saving. Captives of Shinryu, and the woman who sought to be me. For a time, I gave in to despair, as I'm sure many lesser women have.

"Wandering the darkness, I came across Gogo and Enuo, who were rather certain that you would come to be, and that you would break the ties that bound my family. They had many names for you. Omega, Destruction, The Void Incarnate, Etrosian Princess, and many far more pointless and lengthy. I understand you even had a few that were vulgar, if well intentioned." Mio's talk of a prophecy about a woman who would come and kill Cid worried me. It sounded too much like the Warrior. At that point it at last dawned on me what I was missing about this conversation. I needed a chance to warn him, but I'd already been drawn into the conversation at that point.

"I'm confident when I say this is Excalibur, not Excalipur," Gilgamesh said.

"Sorry!" I chimed in, "But that'd be my fault. I persuaded Benjamin to aide us in our efforts, which boiled down to him retrieving that from me."

"Wait, that means you were the knight with the swords?"

"Yep! Actually, you guys gave me a lot of work. I had to persuade both Firion and Terra to help you out."

"No, I distinctly remember Terra NOT being helpful," Omega said.

"She just doesn't like you?"

"So Benjamin was the traitor, then."

"No, you've got it all wrong! He was loyal to you. That's why he helped us out."

"I don't get it," Gilgamesh said, "how could helping you help us?"

"Ah-ah," Alfador chided, "No spoilers. Not yet."

As Omega struggled to get to her feet and kept Mio distracted, Alfador nodded to me, and I turned to the Warrior.

"I need you to listen to me," I whispered.

"But this is-."

"Just LISTEN!" I hissed. "What you lost was real. The love you had was real, wasn't it?"

"It was. I really did love her."

"The girl, not Cosmos, right?"

"I loved Cosmos, but not as much as I did Elena."

"She's alive."

"What?"

"Mio just said she's merged with Gogo and Enuo, and all those women, right? Well the girl on the floor there is Serah Farron, fused with Omega and Elena."

"Are you sure?"

"Shush! Just listen. Your love was real, Mid. We've all stolen from you, and we've all asked you to do things that we wanted you to do for us. No one has ever let you choose for yourself, until now. You say you're going to love, then do it. But please, this time, don't do it because we asked you to."

"I don't understand."

"I've been running away. I'm dead, Mid. I have been a long time. And though I love a son of Cid, and looking at you makes it hard to know how any woman could not, I have to let him go. That's my destiny. I am a woman who loves a son of Cid, I am a Kidd. I have to sacrifice my love and my son of Cid for the world.

"I died to save the world. I got selfish, and thought it was time the world paid me back. I've been dreaming, and it's time I woke up to the harsh reality of things: I'm dead, Mid. I have been for a long time. I can't ever be with Cloud, because I'm dead, and he's alive. I can't be with Theodor, because I died on a world far from the one on which he is supposed to still be alive. I love them, both of them, but I have to let go of them.

"The plan was to break your heart, and use you to lead us all into a world full of flowers. A world of peace and happiness, where we could all be together, but that was just a stupid dream. It's time I grew up and woke up. You had a real love, a true love in a real world. You have the right to feel what I felt. You have a right to experience the good things in life. You have the right to know a day when you can lay down your sword in a real world. You have the right to reality.

"Choose it, then, Son of God. Choose reality. Forget the world of flowers and go home! She's waiting for you! Are you a Hero or aren't you? The Hero rescues the girl! You've got to get back there and see her again: in the REAL world, where you both can laugh and dance under the light of a real sun. Where your tears and laughter, and pain and happiness are all real and all matter. Go home, Warrior. Go back to the real world."

"You've worked so hard for your world full of flowers, though." He said as I took his hands in mine. "Why are you doing this?"

"I do this for love."


	30. Chapter 30 Aerith and Golbez

_**WHERE PLANTS GROW, ELVAAN WASTES, WORLD B.**_

_**THE TENTH CYCLE**_

_**GAINSBOROUGH AND GOLBEZ.**_

"I thought I would find you here," Golbez said, approaching from behind. The sudden warm air stopped his cloak from billowing as it had moments before in the harsh cold winds. He had entered a small, somewhat enclosed space in which beautiful yellow flowers blossomed. They stood out against the surrounding wasteland, where the only vegetation was a frozen forest, and where tundra had long since given way to winter's icy whims.

This was the Elvaan waste of World B. None of the summoned knew the reason for its name, but Garland had shared it all the same. Garland seemed to know too much about this world as it was, despite his claims that he was just another summoned. The wasteland stretched the entire southern coast of the continent, and beyond it only an iron sea expanded, punctuating the desolation of this place.

This was the world they had known for eleven months of warfare, now. Some of them had been there longer. Before arriving, they could remember nothing. Garland and Chaos' hosts, however, offered one's memories in return for service, and so Golbez had readily enlisted. He came here today at Garland's behest.

"I knew you would come," Gainsborough said, not bothering to look up from the dirt she tilled with her own hands. "What reason did I have to run?" She was young and beautiful, even coated in the dirt and sweat of her labors. The harsh reality of this world seemed to have taken little of the sparkle of her eyes. Golbez shied away from such a peaceful tone, and was grateful she did not turn to look at him. All of this would be easier if she did not.

"Some of your allies have already fled." Golbez said, not at all certain why he was delaying his task. "The Doctor has gone her way. Cosmos' Sanctuary is besieged. The Warrior cannot hold our forces forever. Soon, Cosmos will fall."

"Then all the more reason I shouldn't run." Gainsborough replied. "If it has to happen, I would rather it happen here."

"You know why this must be, I assume?"

"No, but I'm not particularly concerned about it, either. It has to happen, so let it."

"Have you no fear for your own life?"

"Should I? Is death so odious a thing that I should lose the worth of life in a hurried flight from it?"

Golbez had no answer for that. Gainsborough had proven an odd woman from the start, and her absolute lack of fear for death was one of the many reasons Garland had sent him today. The woman could not be allowed to continue. But at least . . . at least she ought to know why, he reasoned.

"You've brought life into this world," he began. "That cannot be overlooked."

"Is bringing life into the world a sin?"

"This world is a world of battle and death. You've given it life, and you've spoken of hope to Cosmos' side. Your words encourage them, and your flowers even more. Your actions deny this world."

"No," Gainsborough denied, "my actions affirm something about this world that terrifies all of you. After all," she said as she turned and rose to meet him, "if this world can be brought back from the dead, so, too, can all your good sides."

"I am sorry to disappoint," Golbez said, turning to the side, revealing a Manikin of Gainsborough. "But that is not the case."

"What is that?" she asked.

"What is that?" the Manikin mimicked.

"An abomination," Golbez explained. "Ex-Death found them-."

"Them? There are more?"

"Yes, many more. At first they are empty frames, but when they come into contact with us, they take on shapes. And it has been discovered that those who are slain by one do not return to this world."

"I see."

"Do you understand now, why this must happen?"

"Because I have challenged Chaos."

"And will you yet offer no resistance for your own life?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," Gainsborough said, approaching him, "You can't take my life away."

Golbez reached out his arms and clamped his mailed hands around her soft throat. "Can't I? I have taken . . . many lives."

"But you cannot take mine." Gainsborough gasped. Tears began to well in her eyes.

"Why not?" he demanded, pushing her against a rock. She did not struggle, but the force of impact caused a tear to descend her cheek.

"Because," Gainsborough explained as the Manikin added its hands to Golbez' about her neck. "I am giving my life. You cannot take away what I freely give up."

"Resist me!" Golbez cried. "Fight back, damn you! You've been so iron-willed in resisting Chaos up until now! Why don't you fight me? Fight, damn you, fight! Show some regard for your own life! Don't you have a home to go back to? Don't you have family or friends? Fight for them! Don't, don't just let me kill you!"

His words fell upon deaf ears, though, and Gainsborough's lifeless body made no reply. The mission had been completed, and the will of God had been done. The manikin soon fell over as well, its mind shorting out at witnessing its own supposed death. It would regroup later, and would assist in the assault on Cosmos' Sanctuary.

There was only one last task to accomplish. Garland had ordered that the flowers be destroyed, too. Golbez set his heel atop them, grinding them where they grew, as fragile and defiant as the woman who had miraculously cultivated them. He stopped, though, when he discovered a second patch of red flowers. These he did not grind into the dust, but rather, he picked up the body of their mother and laid her to rest among them.

He would return to this site again and again to harvest the flowers he would use in his scheme. Once plucked, the red flowers never wilted, bolstered by the tenacity of she who had planted them.

_**MANSE KLAUSER, "HEAVEN" WORLD D.**_

_**THE NIGHT OF DORGAN KLAUSER'S PARTY.**_

_**AERITH AND THEODOR**_

"I hoped I would find you here," she said, running a hand through her hair. Aerith was dressed in a beautiful crimson gown, woven with bombskin to glow with an ethereal flame. It was backless and sleeveless, but elegant and modest at the same time. She still wore the same pink ribbon, but had pulled up her hair for the occasion.

The scene was Dorgan Klauser's mansion. The occasion was Dorgan's birthday party. On this night, he would be informed that his son, Bartz, would yet again fight Chaos for Cosmos. The two, in a drunken stupor, would discuss Final Heaven with Gilgamesh Sr. and Cid Previa, alias the Scholar. This night Faris Scherwiz had already become enamored of Aerith. But those stories have no place here.

The mansion, lavishly furnished and exquisitely decorated for the party, was filled with notaries from across the Heavens. Aerith had come with her husband, who was the friend of one Cloud Strife, who was a friend of Klauser's son, Bartz. The man to whom she was speaking had come as the brother of another of Bartz' friends.

Theodor stood with his back to her, overlooking the ballroom dance floor, where Cloud and Aerith's husband, Zack, stood debating which would have the opportunity of dancing with her next, she having only just finished a dance with Bartz and before that his father. The balcony was yet secluded, for the vast majority of guests were still congregated below, waiting the next dance.

He was a massive man, Theodor, dressed in a black uniform with a black cape over one shoulder. In spite of his monstrous size, he was still refined and the picture of a Celestial gentleman. Aerith had come seeking him half on whim.

"I worried you might come." He said.

"Worried? And here I thought you were the fierce one."

"Even Behemoths know better than to hunt Tonberries."

"Fair enough." Aerith said, "but all the same, I wanted to talk to you."

"And . . ." Theodor said, "I you."

"Is it true what they say about you?"

"Is everything they say of you, true?"

Aerith laughed. "That depends on what they say."

"Doesn't it always? There is . . . some truth to what you have heard, though. Does that satisfy you?"

"No. That's not why I wanted to talk to you. It raises more questions than it answers."

"This is the way of life, even when we are dead."

"Tell me, then. Why does the rightful heir to the Lunarian crown cower in shadows? Your people have long waited for you to come to them. Why do you resist your father's people so?"

"You are . . . a half-breed as well, are you not?"

"I am. My mother was a Cetra, my father hume."

"Then well do you know the feeling of being ever torn between two selves. The part of you that desperately cries out for humanity, and the part of you that forever insists that it is not. You are never at one in either setting, correct?"

"Even when everyone is welcoming, their kind faces and cheerful dispositions do nothing to put you at ease."

"Indeed. For this reason do I not take my Uncle's place as Sovereign of my people."

"I understand. It's warm in here. Would you walk with me in the gardens?"

Theodor assented, and they adjourned. He was astounded that this woman could carry a conversation so well, that she so well understood him, or that she so well hid her judgments of him. They spoke for some small time of many nothings, and then at last the conversation took an interesting turn.

"Your brother has a son, does he not?"

"Yes, Ceodore. My nephew, whom he named for me."

"Then . . . then you could have children, too?"

"Yes, if I wanted to, I suppose I could have."

"Why didn't you?"

"I . . . never found a woman that suited me."

"You mean you've never . . . ?"

"I have, but I have never fathered sons, for I have never found a woman I could burden with myself and my child."

"I see."

"And you? You have long been married I understand."

"I . . . I cannot have children." Aerith's voice faltered, and her dismay was evident.

"Forgive me," Theodor said, "I did not mean to offend you."

"No, I brought it up. It's just, I've never told anyone before. I don't know if they've ever put it together or not, but I've never said anything. They say every little girl dreams of being a mother one day. I certainly was no aberration from that norm. I wanted a baby all my life. But I have never been able to have one."

Theodor could think of no fitting response as Aerith broke into tears. She rested her head on his shoulder and whispered, "I think that's why I plant so many flowers. They are my children, when I can have none of my own." In the dark garden, beneath the starry sky, he held her in his arms until long after her tears had subsided into nothing more than the heavy breaths of welcome slumber.

"And that is why I have tended them," he whispered to her as she slept. "Because I am too afraid to have children of my own."

_**THE ROILING SEAS, THE THRONE ROOM, WORLD C.**_

_**THE INTERMISSION**_

_**THE FLOWER GIRL AND THE MAN IN BLACK**_

The waters writhed and frothed in madness. A mass and tangle of bodies struggling to breath them, heads trying with all force to break free and breathe the air of the first hint of the real world. The water was cold and smooth and wet in a way that cold and smooth and wet had not been in the longest time. A pressure in the collective lungs of the bodies beneath that surface warned of an urgent need for air. An utter lack of light masked the many diverse forms struggling for freedom with limbs that had atrophied in a weightless slumber in a mother's womb.

The woman could not breathe, like all others. More terrifying than her urgent need of air was her sudden realization of isolation. Surrounded by others, her senses were overloading, and she could not understand nor interpret them fully. All she knew was that she was alone, and in need of air. Darkness clung to her in a way that even the water could not, and the isolation threatened to override her will to survive.

So soon, she thought, so soon I am returned to life and about to die again. There was nothing for it, though. Death had come for her again, and would not let her leave this place alive. The reaper never returned that which he had already claimed for his own.

Despair came next, telling her that she had foolishly thrown away her happiness; what happiness it was she could no longer recall, but she knew she had thrown it away to come here, and now she would die cold, alone, wet and afraid in a struggle for freedom and air against all other things. In the end there would be no great battle, no poetic finale, and no glorious sacrifice. She would merely be pushed down by the swarm of others clambering for an escape to the air above.

Mother was right, she thought, this world is terrible. She could almost hear the voice calling out to her, mocking her pathetic bid for survival. Her desperation and despair would be the fuel that fed the flames Mother would use to burn the world. As a hand forced her head back under the water before she could breathe, she resolved to meet her fate with dignity, and rob Mother of that power.

But an invisible hand refused to let her die. Mightier than she could believe, two large, hard hands reached beneath her waist and lifted upward. She broke the water once again, and felt the soothing cold air fill her lungs as she tried fought for air. All around her were the sound of screams and sloshes. Wet and cold, she began to sob from primal fear, breathing more and more.

As she did, the silent hands which had lifted her came behind her and wrapped themselves around her. Though cold and wet, the larger figure warmed her as he held her in his arms. This unseen man, clad perhaps only in the darkness that made up this world of sleep, was the one pillar of calm and strength in a furious sea of souls frantically trying to wake up and return to life. She clung to that force, that one sure spot, with all her strength.

It may well have been the last time they ever touched. The first time they ever truly embraced. The only time they would ever stand as one, truly and completely honest with one another. The Gods would soon tear them apart again, and the last war would come between them. But neither felt sorry or afraid for that. They took comfort in the other's embrace alone.

No, from it they took more. They took hope. And that hope they had worked and would yet work to spread to as many others as they could. This was their Endless Cycle: hope begetting hope, and love being the motivation and the result of love.

"I knew you would come," a voice in the darkness said to her.

"Please," she said, "stay with me until it is time."

"I will."

_**END OF BOOK FOUR: THE DREAMER'S REPORT.**_

_**THE STORY CONCLUDES IN: SARAH'S REPORT.**_


End file.
